My control over reality is my sanctity,
so if you too lose your grasp sometimes,
enter my grip at your own risk...
But please, don’t force your way to the
tips, for I need them to strip the skin
from split lips; I speak, with sand paper
edging my words smooth, so when these
decisions of life or death fall dead on top
of stress? … I find it hard to be motivated
to even move; Look into my words… like
telescopes facing black holes in the earths
surface, and when these words also fall to
times hands, is this poetry even worth it?
Yes!..
Free your mind; just strip the scalp clean,
you’re not Jesus, nor are you a sinner,
you have your own opinions and dreams.
Whether religious, atheist or other on
society’s tick boxes, you’re only an individual,
so don’t think for other, think for your
OWN logic; create a plate for you to make
a stand, demand that they don’t chain your
hands to their plans, or consider you anything
but, Just a man
I’m not speaking for youth, I’m speaking for
humanity, this is neither political, nor social…
Merely a forced war on reality, sanity rests in
our survival, so don’t use old scriptures,
instead? devise your own bible.
So instead of asking you poets questions, just
to see through your lying... i put the blade to
our throats, and simply ask... are we dying?
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