

Oh, My godsBeautiful and bitter. It thrills, then kills. Numbs my pain, by driving me insane. Inject the poison into my brain. Enhance dopamine, bring me anything. Something so sweet, but such aftertaste. Brings life, lays it to waste. You will never change me. But, yes you are changing me. Ball and chained by what entertains. Soothes my mind. My kind of addiction. Who does it hurt? Such innocence in these golden calves. I burn down my sacred shrine. Purge the deceitful gods of mine. Oh my gods, why have I forsaken you? Because the innocent addictions cOh, My gods


Savor the SicknessSavor The SicknessSavor the Sickness
I savor the sickness that dwells within me. Detestable disease, do I really want to be free? My favored affliction has its restrictions. This condition that defiles me so, Is my best friend and all Ive known. Who is this God who claims that He wants to kill my pain? Murderous fiend! Does He not see, to kill the pain would destroy me? I can see His intentions are pure, but this disease cannot and must not be cured. Me and this defect are conjoined at the mind. Separation would surely cause me to die. I am


Daddy, PleaseDaddy, PleaseDaddy, Please
Daddy, please hold me if you can. Teach me how to be a man. Daddy, please, please dont go. Youve missed so much. Could you watch me grow? Is this okay? Can men show emotion? Am I to internalize this raging ocean? Daddy, do you know I love you? Is that manly? But its true. Where do I stand, uninitiated, without a plan? Daddy, please take my hand. Oops. There I go again, sounding like a sissy. I am getting wiser as a man, because my heavenly Daddy showed me I can. Sometimes I wonder how clos


Poetic InjusticePoetic InjusticePoetic Injustice
Its poetic injustice because mere words will never serve what needs to be heard. Try as I might, they may sound nice, but just wont suffice. Although words may inspire to move toward your desire, this world needs more that unaccompanied talk. You hear my words, but dont see my walk. Its poetic injustice. Shortchanging the world, casting my pearls in hopes that they strike a nerve. Your mental patterns cannot be swerved if left with empty words. An example is needed from one whos succeeded. A vis
| I am Aesop. I tell fables age:24 bday:jan 28 1985 |

Previous PageNext Page