I am a result
Of not two people
I am a result of advertisements
Of politicians
Of company's
Of ideas drilled into my head, by constant repotion and threats from authority figures
I am a result of headlines that scream the words ****, death, racesim and terror.

I am a result of built up hopes.
The countless movies that show us heros that conqure the impossible, while slowly walking away form an explosion.
The comic books that boldly display abilitys we then dream of.
Expectations we are forced to have that someday we will save the world.
I am the result of reality hitting you full on like a world saving superman punch,
I am the result of relizing, that there is a 99.9999999999% chance I am not the "chosen one"

I am the result of an enviroment where I have to hold my breath to not let the toxins in
The overdose headlines
The children I see inhaling away there future and when I walk by blowing it in my face
I am the result of an overdose that ripped away my uncle
A world filled with misery and we find this the best way to "cure" it.

I am a result filled with images of diffrent family's breaking apart, leaving broken children behind.
A result witnessing the hurt, homeless and heartless walk on the same ground but don't awknoladge it
The veterans thrown to the streets
The gay pride rainbows coverd in the dark clouds of pregiduce this world is shadowed by
The sour taste of racesim lingering on individual tongues trying to break through a wall of common sense
The weaponising of wonderful wise wishful young children around the world to creat a fearful, fierce, fiery killing machine
I am a result of this world, the mistakes we all make, the suffering we all take, the lives these mistakes put at stake, these wounds that ache, the cusses that spin in children's head thanks to drake, these politicians people see as lying snakes, this earth that quakes, that brings us awake
I am a result, in a world of results
Of hope that one day we can push these fears away
I am a result of an army of dreamers
A horde of lovers
And a croud of carers
I am a result of two people who tried hard enough to make a difference
They are my sheild and my sword equipping me to fight this poisend world
We are what's left we are the dreamers the workers and the lovers and once were done fighting away the hurt, evil,terror and pain,
We can look out on this world and call it
Our result

Why must you crave love to replace a hole in your heart or are you just unsure of what you are and what you want?

Why must you obsess over something you have the rest of your life to find or are you just that bored of who you think you are?

Do you know yourself really deeply truly know your being or do you just see the outside of it?

Do you know your core being the person that you are the person inside you or do you just see alone insignificant person in the mirror?

Why worry about a significant other, their is always another person waiting for you, or do you just feel that alone that uncomfortable, that insecure that you need to give your heart to someone just to have it broken to peices in your face?

When you say "I'm stupid" are you stating that your mind is below your peers or are you saying that you don't want to learn your ignorance will conqure your life and world as you know it?

When you say your lonely do you say that your alienated because your friends aren't the way you want them or are you really left out unheard, invisible, misunderstood, and labeled?

When you say you have no friends is it because they won't talk to you, for some reason because you constantly said possibly "No one wants to be my friend, no one will stay around me" Even though that one person that you chased off with your acidic words left you for that reason or is it only skin deep in your eyes?

When you lie is it only because you really don't know who you are and how great you can be or is it because of the sheer thrill of hurting/disappointing people?

When you diffrentiate ugly and pretty do you look at the lust beauty or the person deep within?

When you find "love" does it hurt you because you don't really know what it is or are you just confused on what your heart, mind, and soul want?

When you alienate a person is it because of what you see or is it because of what you feel they are?

When you reject someone is it because they aren't what you wanted, they are to different for you, or is it because you didn't want love in the first place?

When you lose something of value to you, a friend an animal, do you deeply hurt over losing them or are you hurt because you think your alone once again?

A poem is only a poem,
words threaded into strings.
It has no purpose,
no cajoling,
no hidden desire to win.
They are mere lines of faulty judgement,
unripe thoughts,
born out of chaotic dreams,
spontaneous dreams.
Whimsical whims.
Whimsical whims.

Don't try to find a pretext in a poem,
you'll be awfully dissapointed.
There is no need to decypher the wording,
unriddle background conformity.

One doesn't intend by writing a poem,
to conqure hearts,
or accomplish a remarkable feat.
Poem doesn't need to be acknowledged,
it has own life to live.

A poem is the most pure gesture,
done with no implicit thought or vile intention.
It is a token of soul,
candid simplicity,
the most heartfelt conjecture.

Lately I ve felt tattered and torn
Like I'm two people
One trying to forget all the bad from the past
And the other wanting all the good things to last

How can I get both
While still holding on to me
Or do I just let go
And what will be will be

All any of us ever want
Is for the good to surive
And all the bad things
To be buried alive

I know i need to let you go
But it is so hard
So many of these things
Have made us who we are

Who will conqure in the end
An will you still want to be my friend

I
Step by step, cleft by cleft
i rise to meet destination above;
Wind, though, rushes and drags
me down, urge keeps me in move

              II
no crag, no stone at hand
i hold a torrent, oh, its time
all my zeal i put
to conqure its clime

            III
whether I could step up a crag
with strenuous hand and mind
would I ever reach the zenith
or await for me Sysphyisus' fate?

oh, the urge against the flow
lived the agonies in a mo
heaven ward the will
& down ward the drill, would go!