Untitled

Unclear view.

Why do you bring other people into your life?

Are you looking for a crew to view your demise.

Validate your self despise?

To answer to all of your passive cries?

To offer you truth when you prefer the lies?

You prefer the lies that you get from the lines, ‘cause the truth is you’ve never walked without disguise.

The truth is you know that you’re afraid to try.

So you mull on each day barely getting by.

You drink ‘til your only worry is how you can find more drink and more smokes so you can cloud up your mind.

Cloud up your mind until you realize that the cloud is not thick enough to make you as blind.

As you wanna be gone like Saul until clarity exiles.

The chains that consistently stand to bind.

You hands are tied.

And you’ve perfected the bow.

What is it now that you hope to find?

Now that you’re so neatly entwined.

Constricted by your brittle spine.

And only you can punish you for your committed crimes.

For crimes you commit, you do tax and fine.

And imprison yourself, membranes confine.

Thin layers transparent(that you can see through) and easily puncture if you’d so decide.

Divide and conquer you feel alone inside.

So when your feelings start to show is when you run and hide.

Divide split personalities one side driven by pride.

You’re too good for this shyt you say but the mirror reflects ghosts and chides.

What happen to the confidence imprinted in your stride?

Collide.

Head on. Don’t listen to the voices cause they’ll only ill-advise.

Invest your time – the alternative amounts only to a surmise.

Surprise now you’ve done it again.

Defining no certainties as you are along on this ride.

Did no one warn you it’d rain time to time?

And that often the rain can draw in the tide.

Change in the weather. Created. Designed.

You can choose to partake or about face beauty in it’s prime.

Anger consumes in your closet’s your shrine.

Lines you take in to forget – to deny.

Line after line with no offer of prize.

Just anguish preserved by way of a brine.

Were you not prepared for the dark side of life’s nursery rhyme.

The rain comes but grey skies often provide.

A sign. An escape plan you must devise.

One that looks at death and respectfully declines.

Where all that remains will frame and refine.

The meaning of life like wine as you dine.

Or unbroken promises vowed to your bride.

Awareness that destruction’s preceded by a gate open wide.

And a majority supporting an untruth doesn’t make it any less a lie.

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