A quick release from the brain

It seems

that my dreams have

become a parallel

track.

I stay still waiting for

the next realm of

reality to rear it's ugly head.

Instead there is a dead

kind of perspective

that puts my mind to

a future dread.

My thoughts have been tortured.

my fortune sits on the outskirts of

my being,

Finally seeing things

for how they should be.

Finally planting a tree of thought

who's roots

spread throughout

mother nature,

supplying a new foundation of

new thought throughout the nation.

What Glissens doesn't always Glow

It shimmers like tiny little diamonds

being mulnipulated by suns kisses,

oh how wet it is.

Wrap yourself around the world

with love so the lands can flourish as proof.

The sands of time are plentiful here,

in my quiet space.

But placed outside this bubble

children make their presence known.

It is shown more

blatantly to those

without mini-me's running around.

What a difference a day makes
Or should I say night?

For, that is when the freaks come out

to sip on dark stouts of

beer.

And get drunk enough

to blame all value driven decisions

on the goose.

Who talks to his cousin

the stork,
and enlightens him

to deliver the news in

nine months.

I feel like Warren G

"Can you see what I see?"

And I see that my sour

disposition

keeps me on the outside position

of societies conformist addiction.

Sometimes the awareness

of such contradictions

allow for growth.

Between a Rock and Hard Place

Sometimes it feel like

the smothering of corruption

has no end.

Or no friends,

for the trust is gone

and the spawn from two

cut throats cannot exist.

I resist to go to far off this cliff

or slippery slope for the rope has gotten

too narrow and seemly to

support my weight.

Yes, because,

plates I've ate

and satisfaction comes to the

hare.

Daring not to partake in desert

for it

does not preserve our

light at the end of

the tunnel.

And yet I see that

our nations tunnel

is going from a sphere

to a box.

But my soul will not let you

box me in

for I'm an Individual.

So your residual accountability

lies within the text

who's purpose is to put

you in between a place of

mental security and being emotionally

vexed.

YOU FIGURE OUT THE REST.