RMC

Faces escape my face I relate
to the crude fate twisted we wait.
For the love to consume us
before we can fall away dissipate.

Function comes a mention
of the rapid pace in this place
I want to reach but I feel tension
around my eyes my race.

Human divided even by blood
we are all a kaleidoscope look up.
The sky will receive for awhile a
look but one day will be snuffed.

Unworthy we are in conjecture
that volleys back and forth words
define us and spy us and lie to us
things that are sometimes absurd.

I’ve felt it before I will not ignore
the feelings I get more and more.
The facade I give off is confident
but my eyes they drag the floor.

What is the answer in this affixed
axis upon we swim again to home?
Through the muck on earth are
politics and ideas bemoaned.

Bleed with me and I’ll stand stout
with the most conservative heart
along with you describing the art
that is left in the brambles and shards.

My face can not escape all
vexation to answer all that I can
with logic and sense that I employ
that I think calls me a man.

The overtures of a pain
that falls in the rain is disdain
for the canyons of despair
I want to repair and maintain.

Women are creators who give
birth to help create an even life;
but both women and men destroy,
and will eventually burn in strife.

There are the those who take
away everything no matter who
they are they are wolves who feed
on the meat of substance too crude.

Feed them and everyone my facade
my act is not but a ruse I now muse.
My eyes down now I am un-glued,
maybe even a little rude.

But I want to heal and rise above
the hurt and all the evil confusion.
So I make myself a land in my head
free of pain it’s maybe an illusion.

I love all and am fearful of more
and I have hesitancy abundant call
me names I am a train derailed
and I fail to mention my disgraceful fall.

I won’t here and now but I dance
in the wolves mouths I laugh.
They tear me apart and I’m just fine,
rip the meat away I can’t help the past.

Free me so I can see the reality
you want to believe but it’s not true.
The sufferings of me I can be
me freely but will always be blue.