A broken thing often is hidden, discarded, replaced.

People, we reset, repair, rebuild seemingly we're refaced.

I see beauty in these broken things, see them repaired.

Because every dent, scratch, or Nick reminds us of our bond and the times we have shared.

Paid To Paint It Black

Another Red door my job is to paint it Black, they are never done always two more on the rack

Would I be put asunder left in constant wonder if just one door might be painted another color

Red resembling rust always a bust, thoughts of other color not left to wonder

Various hues bring other views while dark stands alone, many reasons to color an entrance from religious to obscure

All my clothes winter or summer refaced with rust or flat primer or pleasing pigments of charcoal

Solid steel adds a secure feel, brass hardware a subtle but luxurious appeal, Noticeable link for a criminal buffer

Many other iron projects to clean paint or polish, paint black doors on Friday to have the weekend to dry,
not to dismiss how security was our main goal

..........Another Red door my job is to paint it Black, they are never done always two more on the rack..........

Had a hidden dream a bolder color besides flat or gloss charcoal tones, last day I should have played leaving just one passageway purple or magenta showing more contrast with my blue collar

Buried in rust always a plus, paycheck never lacked as long as I didn't slack, often heard **** on the radio SCREAMING

..........Another Red door my job is to paint it Black, they are never done always two more on the rack..........

I am not who I thought I'd be
Sure I look a little like John McClane now
If he'd birthed Gary Busey.
An unrelenting action hero
That finds "action" an unlikely filter too far from reality, and "hero" a notion so freely given that societally we have reduced what it was meant to mean.
Heroes used to be subjects of admiration
That which inspired aspiration in our youths (utes- some of you get it)
But the title of "hero" was an impermanent...

(Character) is a hero (timeline) for doing (x)

Yet it becomes their lifelong nomination to the firmament of history.
How many of our "heroes" died on crosses only to reveal skeletons (a lot) or journal pages of moments?
How many times have "heroes" been exposed as nearly inexplicable excellence deposed by the consequence of inconvenient fact?

{This guy did a super awesome thing... but oh, wait - no... don't Google, he's really a *******}

That achievement, as laudable as it should be, is no replacement for an expectation to be human.. to be in spite of being.

Athletes, actors, poets, and songwriters, producers, investors, and attorneys who all say "you're going to do great kid", who support you right up until the moment you aren't doing great... or in reality: they're about to get "me too"-ed. {I desperately want to call it moo-ed}

It's not an accident that every movie is familiar and every song sounds the same except the few artists who stake their own vulnerability - it's a badly written matinee.

[Like trying to make those words rhyme]

If we sound or seem mundane, it's because you, the sheeple, conditioned to show contrition at the steeple, believe it to be a reflection of your pain.
We've crafted a carefully cultivated currency of resistance in the constant contentious, captivating and  licensious, breeding and ever feeding, consumers of today... to tell you all to stop listening to us.

And stop smoking cigarettes <wink>.

Taylor Swift, America's sweetheart and a genuinely talented songwriter keeps writing songs about why you should stop listening to her. And that none of you get "it" is probably why I never will.

It's more subtle now. The punk and post punk movements of the pixies and velvet underground refaced the pavements surreptitious to what "adults" then thought was "a wall of sound".
But what is punk now except an exposition of 30 somethings trying to find the after hours after party, even literally underground? Or just go to bed?

We cannot even have an open discussion without being so hurt we have to find private corners to complain about anyone who disagrees with "me"
Never giving credence or understanding of what "me" means...

It's nothing. History will forget you as I hope it forgets me. The only thing I hope is that a few people read my lines, I might help shape a few minds, and I might live forever in the national archives - the pages of memory.

Terrible people are capable of great things
Just as every person history records as great...
Just as all "Great people" have all done horrific things.
No exceptions.