Free your hate from those that hurt you,
Lift yourself above,
Spend your time on those deserving,
For only they deserve your love.

Smokey bars and lucid scars
Muted truths,
Memories of a distant youth,
Stolen scenes from magazines,
Amphetamines,
Walking in on adult scenes.
Old enough to run away,
Hopeless born out of decay,
Wise enough to see the wrong,
Write a poem,
Sing a song.
The smell of cigarettes and whisky still disarm,
The shiny glint from razor blades still holds a tempting charm,
They’re  the voices of my troubled youth,
Trying to pull me down,
The circus i escaped from,
Pining for it’s clown.

Dance softly through the wild stares of the obtuse,
Stagnant in their lacking,
Cracking up and jacking off,
Listen as they scoff,
Mistaking cracks for tracks to tax the backs of those that bare their failures,
The yet to be saviours,
The sons and daughters who’ll become the authors of the failings that they see.
Those cursed lessons that will shape who they will be,
No more a future can I wish to see,
The blood of our generation,
Dripping with desperation at the separation of every nation,
Damnation crying out for salvation.
History will show the choices we’ve played,
Centuries will be weighed under the shadows we’ve made.
Let lessons be borne,
Stuck like the pages of procrastinating ****,
Promises sworn under beguiling scorn,
I shall mourn for the life that I wished had been born.

Dad, dad the sky’s fallen asunder,
Be at peace my child for its only thunder,
Dad, dad the earth starting to break,
No my child - It’s just an earth quake,
Dad, dad the oceans are dying,
No little one,
It’s the world that is drying,
Dad, dad why does man **** animals,
Because some people have barely evolved from being cannibals,
Dad, dad why are children abandoned
I’m afraid man’s forgotten the 7th commandment,
Dad, Dad what can I do,
My innocent child,
Be the best version of you,
But Dad will that ever change what’s become,
If it means you feel worthy,
Then it’s enough my son,
So tell me dad,
What did you do,
I surrendered myself,
The day I had you.

This ones for you -
The opportunistic optimists,
The pragmatist,
The “we don’t have the money but here’s a kiss”
Those that always feel their on the run,
Who get excited when they see the sun,
Those who need nothing to have some fun,

Those who don’t make their own meals,
Cos the kids leftovers are always for steals,
Those who have ideas as opposed to ideals,

Those who are thankful for life,
Who have learned to survive,
Who are happy to walk whilst others drive,
Whose natural default is to thrive,

Those who appreciate the small stuff,
Whose childhood was more than rough,
Who have perfected the art of a bluff,
Who don’t really own much stuff,

So this is to those that I call real people,
Who rarely see themselves as equal,
Who regardless of circumstances are always cheerful,
Who wake up facing a daily upheaval,

This is to you to say my thanks,
Because you raise us up to be like tanks,
To protect what’s important by closing ranks,
To be naturally aware of whose on our flanks,

So this is to us,
The working masses,
Because we’re the backbone of the upper classes,
We have a go and take our chances,
So to all of us - let's raise our glasses.

As I peer over the edge of this cliff,
Into uncertainty,
The bile rises in my throat,
It’s familiarity a truthful testament to my existence,
Teetering on the edge.
No one sees the strings attached behind me,
The other ends lost in the hands of the incapable,
Ironic that the only power they hold,
Is ultimately all the power I depend on,
Loosen their grip and I slide closer to the depths of desolation,
If they pull together then I’ll be saved,
But they aren’t aware of the limbo they influence,
So focused on their greed they don’t see my strings in their hands,
Every waking hour I recite words of encouragement,
Support,
I lend an ear,
Offer a shoulder,
Plead and profess in the hope they will listen,
But I’m fighting blind,
All the time my eyes are focused on the darkness below that reaches for me.
I don’t even see those that I try in vain to command,
Some days my confidence sustains me,
They listen,
Pull me back from the edge,
Give me moments of peace and fragments of relief,
Then they drown my voice in their petty squabbles and loosen their grip,
I slip,
The bile returns and I find myself teetering once again.
I don’t know why I haven’t lost it,
Jumped into the void just to save my own remnants of sanity,
Often I think it would be better to deal with the darkness that awaits,
Than wrestle with the insanity of fools,
Maybe I’m the biggest fool,
For allowing myself to be tied to the end of a madman’s noose,
It no longer  matters how I ended up here,
Only how long I can live with it.
If I didn’t care I would of jumped long ago,
But I do,
And that’s my kryptonite,
That why I’m scared to scream at the insolent,
To command my requests in words they can’t mistake,
Because if there’s a chance to coax a rescue,
To wrestle a reprieve from the minds of my ignorant masters,
Then I’ll fight for it.
But it’s hard,
Every second of every hour of every day,
It’s hard to be this puppet,
With a painted smile and a funny dance,
I make my watchers laugh,
Never will they know what is happening on the other end of my strings,
They’ll never even see them,
No one else know how little control I have,
And why should they,
I’m a puppet on a string,
And I invited the puppeteers,
You want to know the real kicker,
I have scissors,
I could cut my strings at anytime,
I’m not scared to fall,
I’m scared to give up.
Fallings easy,
For the weak,
I refuse to fall,
Regardless of who holds my strings,
I refuse to fall.

When I look at you,
I see my eyes,
We share our truths and hide our lies,
When you laugh I feel the laughter too,
When you cry known that I’m crying with you,
Because your my sister,
Your my soul,
Your a part of me that makes me whole,
A million miles or across the street,
We’ll always share the same heart beat,
It doesn’t matter where you go,
Or what you choose to do,
Our bond is unconditional,
As is my love for you.