Up all night

Amazingly late nights that end in the day,

Just after I woke up early to move hay,

Don’t know what time it is when it dark,

Can’t spend my evenings out at the park.

Insomnia is weird when it happens in the light,

Always feeling tired is quite a fight.

This poem is quite plain,

My consciousness begins to wane.

7 more hours to go,

But the clock moves to slow.

Up all night

Amazingly late nights that end in the day,

Just after I woke up early to move hay,

Don’t know what time it is when it dark,

Can’t spend my evenings out at the park.

Insomnia is weird when it happens in the light,

Always feeling tired is quite a fight.

This poem is quite plain,

My consciousness begins to wane.

7 more hours to go,

But the clock moves to slow.

Aging

Dilapidated crumbling rocks of a hero’s family home.

Spiders slimy webs in the ruins broken bricks.

A man once looked up to, a death that came to quick.

Shatter glass remains,

Destroyed picture frames,

When the past is gone,

How do we move on?

Crushed soul and tendinitis, of body that has emptied its tank.

Empathic thoughts squashed by indecisive ice,

You thrust your ice pick hard,

Muscles ripping and pulled apart,

You continue to work with all your heart.

If there was one day that you could,

If your body only would,

Take the opportunity to complete it’s arduous task,

To remove old age’s wrinkled mask.

Born Dying

Born dying,

Never flying,

You need wings to move forward,

Fear the wall your running towards.

Sharp eyed strength,

The will to take,

Your days are spent working,

Your nights are spent twerking,

Married now,

Money scowl,

Your hours are spent decomposing,

The clock ticks slowly as your closing,

Old age all along,

Not able to fit in a thong,

You remember your youth,

As you fall apart in the booth,

Words trying,

You continue dying,

Was the glory a myth,

As you are on your last stint,

Born dying,

Keep on trying,

Until your last days,

You never gave up on play.

You have to share your feast.

Conflicted stories of imaginative times,

Hope for a future which time has unwinded,

Love for the people that are not really there,

Compassion for the ones that don’t really care,

Fame and fortune create guile among friends,

As you move forward people give you the bends,

Why aren’t we able to share?

Why do they always have to compare?

Can’t every path be it own?

Can’t we make money without being owned?

If capitalism is to succeed,

We need to stop greed.

If community is to endure,

We need to remove guile from our core.

Just take that moment to share,

Just take a moment to care,

Become a friend,

Until the end,

Vote today,

To find a new way,

Because if you want peace,

You have to share your feast.

The Broken Pieces of Our World

Furry blue land of carpet,

Furry green sea of waste,

Toxic deadly tar pits,

Air that is to gross to taste.

We lay the blame on the people,

We lay the blame on the steeple,

But capitalism ties our hands,

And it’s power transcends countries lands.

Shattered pointy psyche,

Drug induced malaise,

Sagging human bodies,

Wretched smoking haze.

We blame each side,

All the trolls hide,

As the psychological media,

Divides our hearts and minds to their own criteria.