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Woke Up

On the dark dusk of discovery
On the cusp of fort thuggery
On the edge feeling brotherly
Lovingly – ungrudgingly
Forging ahead its bugging me
It’s so hard to explain my brand
I’m more than a fan of this kind of life
this kind of style
the true self is just a man
doing all he can
but at a loss for words for those that I love
I’m sorry that I am the way I am
my silence is the product of past slaughtered lambs
before my eyes
my soul rejects lies
that’s why I say and say and do what I do
the opposite of which that they do
maybe it’s just for fucks sake
or for lucks sake
to save the day
stay safe then stay away
I got burned I got bored
I bounced.

So I soared, I sang, I sort of lashed out
called out the fake
mimicking opponents to how their mind is shaped
pared hetero porno promo watching homophobs around the globe
and poverty laden cavemen
saturated havens in the hood with gun toting shamans
oversimplification of the downtrodden and forsaken
so called lost children waiting
reversed blood sucking payments
from some laymen to some grey skin
inside the slave monster’s basement
they do what their told
but true masters do what they know.

They do it for show
for the fun and the flow
all over the globe
in rain, sleet and snow
we let our souls glow.

Filed under: Poetry

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New Leaves on the Old Trees is a collection of poetry about love, war, death, rebirth, healing and transformation. Please feel free to leave any comments or questions. (under construction - thanks for following/liking in interim phase)

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