Asked help, wrong town.

 Left alone for sake of pain of what was missing

but antagonistic harassment turned home into a prison

ask for help to identify the opposition

though none would listen 

so demolition of their homes also became my mission 

but my conscience refused to feed me ammunition

without honesty to snitch on self to make it a none competition  

as they run away with pathetic repetition

to invite kids in their homes to try and flaunt me as an exhibition 

amongst scummy townsfolk's passive aggressive traditions

that gave aid to their precision 

their lack of face is just who they are, that was their parents decision

an hereditary nutrition to feed their spineless condition 

so they can rally the masses led by the absent magicians 

and any truth and facts get labelled derision 

because after the fact, becomes a story of a one-sided rendition 

with seeds of truth that were told by the honest singular vision 

not the ones aimed to convince the numbers their the only mathematicians

a town of fragile egos with a view of a defected opticians 

only have eyes that glisten when they gather for righteous incisions

not to find whats right, no need, when they have arrogant intuition  

for this is a town that covers the ugly cosmeticians.

 

 

Brand old day.

 A sleep is hope to never wake

to dream adrift from the hated fate 

of what was once a prize will never equate

an old horizon, that arrived to late

for now's a new founded trait 

the exaggerated contaminates 

to destroy a hope fuelled story and a will to wait

for everything good evaporates 

as all that's left is a baited weight 

that nothings new, just pain to navigate.

An old day that just replicates.

Resigned as pure fiction.(Doubt 2)

One to and for one

seems to come undone

with seams that read fun

and stitches that run, mundane

a sweaters rest seen amidst pain

a bare body crying out to be but plain

for not much longer can it carry the insane 

of what was once is now but a stain

a mercy resigned against the strain

for what was always an untimely drain

was but hope to be ordained sane

is now a race against times reign 

to outlast the ticks and tocks ultimate fame

with no, one picture resting in frame

but now be a present to some unknown gain

or to the inevitable will, this body claims

too soon to tell a story, as none will remain.

 

Lost meaning.

 Enemy of the state 

of the common place traits

with no way to replace the hate

to create a will for them to hesitate 

to increase a will to integrate 

Instead just concern of egotistical inflation

of the minds gentle sedation 

with easy words to fool elation 

will only prolong the fakes duration

where easy games fool salvation

to the point where lonesome is revered as a righteous temptation 

and all that is, deteriorates with no suitable translation.

A day in the sun.

 Forever in a day, for it to outweigh

forever on replay with the noway 

here or there plays the game of keep away

within a morn of grey that colors me red, among the absent bouquets  

that were led astray by angers prey 

as calm prays, come what may

for who else could I lay 

(and I'm talking about the position not the mixture of DNA)

to listen to the cliches 

of love without the decay of time

just so that heaven can can keep it on display.

For this time is just an entree 

that fills the means for what lies beyond the fray

for who cares what the ignorant say

when the, prove it, rules are so easy to obey.

 

So let her smile be eternal 

beyond the shit colored journal

to recolor the sun with a hue that's thermal

and freeze our day, to never turn nocturnal.