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Past the deep Gotham of my eyes --
     The authority of my headache reads
     The graffiti of the prophets -- scribbled
     On the back walls of the train-station:
          
           Commute, work, commute, eat,
           Commute, work, commute, sleep;
           Work  Buy  Die
           And Say AYE-AYE, Sir.

     How many Dear Mr. Heartbreak letters
     Have been etched here -- (I cannot say how many) --
     Deep in the Gotham of my eyes --
     Cold as a city empty of alleys --

     Maybe I'll please the philistines,
     With much talk of good money. I'll study
     Their scriptures about the nonsense of art.
     At last I'll make good --

     I'll finally make them happy.
     I'll try a new part in my hair.
     Maybe I'll put down this pen; stop these letters.
     From now on, I'll express myself in tears.
I watched as you
cast yourself away
one step at a time;
with my gaze fixed
at your dauntless irises
how could I have known
that with every breath
you were drifting further away.

The clocks ticked away,
and all I have is the last of
second chances.

I watched as you slowly,
very slowly,
with such grace,
effortlessly,
faded into the horizon.

And all I have to thank
is the image of you
my eye lids were able to retain.
What is a monster ?
What is evil ?
Do those things even exist ?
Or are they created by humans, to give them reason of those terrible deeds done ?
What makes a monster ?
Someone who takes joy from hurting others ?
Who kills for fun ?

A monster cannot be defined in a dictionary,
because everyone’s opinion of a monster is different.
Sometimes a monster can be that person who stole your money and left you stranded.

Or maybe a mass murderer like ‘Jack the Ripper ’.
Or maybe a monster is very different inside all of us.
There is no way to define a monster,
because although monsters are all evil,
they start out good.
And although monsters enjoy the darkness,
they once enjoyed the light.
No one is an angel,
no one is a demon.
Those terms do not exist.
Because we are all monsters.
They hide inside of us,
Waiting for that perfect moment to strike.
We all started completely pure and full of light,
With our inner darkness unknown to us.
We all start out like little lights in the dark.
So what makes a person a monster?
You do.

Those tainted by darkness unknowingly taint those of light,
Turning them bitter, cold and wicked.
Most people learn to adapt to such bitterness.
But there are those whose hearts cannot withstand.

I am a monster.
What kind is another question.

What kind are you ?
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