A loser is someone who wakes up to an alarm
& drives to a place they hate doing things around people they hate
for multiple hours a day
to only make a pittance and live a sub standard life after the fact.
It's better to withdraw;
I've been the loser countless times before, but you can't lose at something you don't even choose to engage in

& They made it easy
when doing nothing feels like a revolutionary act
I no longer care what happens
1,000,000 years of human evolution & survival & they have us
so afraid

Them again
Hooting and hollering
On the block
I can’t believe
I’m bothered by
Their confidence
It’s like they’re
Mocking me
Just for trying to exist
And they’re calling me a *****
Maybe I’m a *****

But I don’t like being in public
I don’t like being in public
Unless I’m making money
Or I’m spending money

the wild west's still with us
it isn't gone at all
8 shot inside a high school
11 at the mall

Tombstone is no longer
Dodge City, it's now dust
But, the wild west's still with us
Believe me...in disgust

They no longer use revolvers
And have show downs in the streets
They've moved it to the school room
Where children hide beneath their seats

The press are there like vultures
The NRA cries foul
11 dead inside the mosque
But people wail and howl

They've the right to carry guns
You can't take that away
So, when you explain that to their folks
Just what do you say?

The wild west's still with us
It's a fact, that's true
It's not the same as it once was
This wild west is new

Shootings in the workplace
Shootings at the schools
Shooting in the churches
Are there any rules?

Each night the news is showing
A new shooting, it won't stop
The shooter dies a victim
And it's always death by cop

The wild west's still with us
It isn't gone at all
7 dead inside the church
11 at the mall

The first-ever satellite images of you

Stranded upon pain inflicted desolation

The process of coming to pieces:

Nocturnal carnivorous planetoid

Moon in your mouth

They hint at remarkably renewed unfriendliness

It’s the same face we all see

Precious and cracked

Your isolated body orbiting

In its bitter ******

Where no sunlight ripples through

The string dangling between your legs

All the children hidden underneath your navel

Have fled down to Earth

To live or die in documented nightmares of their own

I scurry around the kitchen floor
Picking up the crumbs I find.
This is not the life we asked for,
But the 'adults' play deaf, dumb and blind.

I am afraid that this is my home,
Though, I know you do not want me here,
But where else do I have to roam?
Outside gets cold this time of year.

So I scuttle from the kitchen to my room,
Hot in the knowledge that I am disgusting.
Society would have the streets, my tomb
To spend eternity in entropy, rusting.

Like the Cockroach
We are victims of circumstance,
But we know our enemy and wait
For a call to arms, for our chance.

Brew the coffee
Brush your teeth
Get dressed
The world is on fire

Get in your car
Drive to work
Sit at your desk
The world is on fire

Pay the bills
Clean the house
Feed the kids
The world is on fire

Take a shower
Lay your head
Start again
The world is on fire

Check your phone
Read the news
Wipe your tears
The world is on fire

Look around
See the flames
Feel the fears
The world is on fire

Wave your arms
Scream for help
No one listens
The world is on fire

Try to breathe
Want to leave
No one sees
The world is on fire

Hang your head
Time for bed
Start again
The world is on fire

Brew the coffee
Brush your teeth
Get dressed
The world is on fire

the social pace manic in its self-absortion, possession facing possession and what if
the world risks collapsing under the weight of its own irony:
a hedonic frame of mind so devoid of the ******* of life
the tyranny of desire is teaching **** to the naked eyes
a culture stops breathing if it can't let go of its desires to find them again
nothing to be destroyed cause everything is dismantling slowly

going right or left it's the same but not in any corner of the world
the leftovers of God, tautologies in a straightjacket,
cause one has meetings all day but no sleep all night
He/She/They colonize you with the scripture of profit
everything has its price on the expence of being enlivened
some don't have water, others too much of an illusion
some don't have peace, others have haute couture
some haven't eaten, others have molecular cuisine
some have the shelter of the sky, others listen to the echo of Big Bang
this logic of contrast is dreaming of the creativity of decay and
what if politics has become a narcosis, a  drunkenness of words,
while the wisdom of trauma is hidden in billboards,
the text says Politics of Happiness or Diserotica

the depressive society fools itself with the financial ****** of disconnected bodies in search of the last noise of the day
the space of the mind  broken by narrow horizons
the flesh and bone might turn into a virtual dimension

yet
the soul of the world flickers, it covers its solar plexus until we meet again as brothers and sisters of the trees
just because you feel good doesn't mean that
the world feels good too

How did we get to where we are,
America - the one undimming shining star,
A land of freedom, of unbounded pride
Where no one needed run and hide
For their religion or mere thought,
Democracy - the very heart of what was taught.

Now the Media drums a beat
That too many rush to heed,
Politicians seem at war
Spewing discord to their core,
Division their concocted art
Wrenching the rest of us apart.

Pressure groups with voices loud
Control the stage as if endowed,
We the masses listen stunned
Outmaneuvered and outgunned,
All too late we see the light
As our cities fall to blight.

Police leaving by the score,
Inner cities full of gore,
Death and Drugs partners in crime
The serial killers of our time,
Those we elect wringing their hands
Caving in to shrill demands.

Social media runs amok
Trampling discourse in it's muck,
Faceless voices spewing hate
Leaving victims to their fate,
Pervading every corner of our life
Their tool of choice inciting strife.

Is it too late may we well ask
To tear apart this vile death mask,
Restoring that for which our father's fought
A way of life worked for and not bought,
The very fruit of land well sown
The purest form of liberty our world has ever known.

Everyone hopes their dreams to become real,
But this girl’s aspiration to reach her goals is surreal.

With eyes full of ambition and will to do anything with zeal,
She started the journey with all support and unreal.

Mankind said her desired was a waste of time,
And longing for an ordinary life was not a crime.

She stayed true to her intentions,
Although the time-line was yearning for irritations.

The girl has finally reached her destination,
With a lot of claps and appreciation.

Wishes and struggles are part of being alive,
But a beautiful life is what your actions drive.