Confession
By hiddendragon
- 343 reads
There are times that life becomes a drag, and all you need is to
smoke some skunk, green, or resin would do to pass this time from bored
to bland, into pleasant light heartened smiles is stead off reality's
crap, I am gladly go in search of peace of heart and mind.
The leaf burns with a surreal effect, and my live does not seem to be
such a bad thing to have to reflect, do I really need to corrupt my
body with dope and chemical, poison in my blood distorts my point of
view,
I think I will have one more drag, now my world is calm but still
chocked and for that I am glad, because perception is all I have lose
it and I will not be able to find my way back.
But now I am in this surreal state the one I longed for, I am confused
about what is real self control without distrust or hate, or am I just
calmed to the worlds black dark state,
I do not hate but worse I do not create, just exist in some displaced
some cold empty space; this is no escape just a relaxing time to not
care about hate.
I have a heart full of love and hate, what do love the same that I
hate, money and this world of material gain, I am sick to have never
made this world change.
From reality is what I need to escape, but I also long for reality and
heart to penetrate, my soul, this displaced face is lost with out
purposes or reason in mind, hard to trust in fate, my life only exist
from day to day,
To start a revolution, what a delusion, I could laugh at my own
suggestion, for I am neither strong nor weaker than those who decide
our fate and sit back with a cunning devious smile, as if society would
allow me to dictate, ambition and drive these are not what create, true
innovation comes from being a disapproved creation.
If I could only see a way for this world to change, would I have the
courage to stand in a ridiculed place, where all my hero's stepped into
to make a difference if only for one day.
I am out numbered out gunned, the public school has society ruled and
to their presence numbed, but I still see what goes on, just that I can
not change it from this office and ashamed I am as to it's charms I
have scone,
I am Judas to my own lust and wants, I take money for my ideals to be
silenced but not numbed, what a con, I feel as empty as this pound I
have just won, what with my life have I done, I am not a corporate
number to be counted and then deleted by a cost cutting run.
Even though I am the top runt in this capitalist litter, hungry empty
heartless dogs, cut your partners through and with it be done, your
soul is lost, but you can now buy what ever you want, tell me what
price is a soul lost to a cold heart and empty smile, you are still
alone.
I hate not what I have become, but rather that I do not see away to
change my run, a poor man I am not willing to become, I have sold out,
but my heart has never suckled from the evil one, maybe that is why I
find it hard to laugh at our victims with my comrades in arms,
I don't not know why I write this story, poem, facts, mission statement
you can chose which it is or means to you, but to me, it is a
confession, that I feel deep and never complete. Thank you for your
time, I hope now you can see that bit deeper in me.
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