My Generation

Between the lines the whispers seek solice
Gratitude of time to be heard,
Only believers feel the undercurrent,
A background humm instigating alternatives
Revealing variations of living,
Walking to rather then standing still,

As a species we live sad
Of the impending eventuality who awaits us,
Our conscious pulls to fearing wait of death,
Dragging down certain minds
Forcing own hands
Bringing forward their premature demise,
Listen to the unconscious reasoning
That deduces this gift should be praised,

We have no say in birth or death
Our only control succeeds as we grow
A Choice to dictate character with emotion,
The advice buried in our soul lays active
Expanding the mind reveals the signs,
Live life blinded in black and white
Or thrive in the wonderment that breathes,
Between the lines.

Doppelganger

Out of body experiences doubt my existence
Feeling in limbo, questioning propaganda
Choices agreed but not remembered
Losing sanity slowly to a doppelganger

Familiar face reflects my smile
Eyes deep of black radiating trouble
Words speaks my voice to society’s nods
I’m the only conscience, seeing this flawed double

Mind stays guarded from being watched
In my dreams his courage grows to speak
Explains my character will be invaded
Though if he bleeds I bleed

Only in the mirror I can ask for mercy
The answer sincerely will be the same
That my tainted fracture soul will soon vanish
And only my demon, will remain.

Numb Num3ers

6 was the magic number
Or was it 3 and 12?
Always stuck to evens 4,8,16
But odds I sometimes delved
13, 23 filled me with dread
10’s good but 5 is great
Why not Friday 14th instead?
3’s nicely rounded, so is 8

666 is evil, but it’s an even number
Confused what I’m doing this 4
Bakers dozen shouldn’t be allowed
999 no help at all
A multiple gift that comes for 3?
20, 25, multiply and subtract
6 and 9 are upside down,
Leap year not sure how to react

60 mins, 60 seconds, why not 100?
19:24 is a digital clock pain
5 gold rings and checking things
13’s unlucky and 7’s fulls of vain
4, 8, 12, straight flush
The perfect number, where’s it 2?
School maths, a 45 degree nightmare
3 × 3 trigonometry, had to see it through

Why 3 pigs and 3 bears?
7 years bad luck or magnificent?
1 never seems ever enough
And what’s after 100 percent?
Adapt, arrange, ÷ on repeat
3, 6, no improvement with evolution
With OCD no matter the equation,
The answer is never the end solution.

Where we Belong

No-one speaks of the son
The true pick pocket of the mind
The embezzler of certainty
Who mocks the deaf and blind

Though master keeps the throne
The aire runs the house
Faceless threat of the scare dimension
Who strung his kids and spouse

Escape never earned
No retreat, only forward
Scarring for the returned
Whipping for a coward

As mortal life is sucked
You die imagining of fairy tales
Reality smells of torture
Of crucifixion from rusty nails

Death bed made in plain sight
Implants dreams of no tomorrow
Sleep tight on pools of blood
A grave so deep and shallow.

Turned

Love is an echo
a wind that seeks a home
extinguishing candles of dejection
lit by praying souls,
Possessing my willing heart
with a harmonious breeze
I need not want for more emotion
as it brings me to my knees,
Shriek out to the world
as love flows through my veins
I’ve never see the sun before
I’ve only lived through rains

Found in a corner

A Human shape of dark gold
picture of a fallen angel,

Though out of tears of humanity
comes beauty,

A Stage where the devil danced
sits a heart full of romance,

Skin cold to the touch,
narrow eyes say so much,

Demons plead to vanity
betraying oneself through insanity,

Rages of a daggers thrust,
again, never be able to trust

Left at the bottom starved of humanity,
begging loud for sanity,

Mouth drying for life of hunger
physically harming to creep from slumber,

A soul of sugar succumbed to salt,
guilt embedded, self always at fault

Be the soul that holds the hand
to lift the person from the ground,

Acknowledge those Deep Blue eyes of fright,
buried inside hides a light.

Let Forever Be

It feels
Like walking your own grave
Dark, damp and endless
Feeding on the brave

Rope bound, quenching the soul
Teasing the God given affliction
A Demons yard where games are played
Provoking hope by swaping addiction

Night fades into day
It’s all the same
Time rarely exists
Small slice of the mind game

An Angel holds my hand
Evaporates from my eyes
Now I understand
That all hope,
Is the Devil in disguise