The Self

Forget the self for a moment, what do you get?         a vehicle of flesh, bone and blood. This feeling of dissatisfaction creeps up like a parasite ready to suck out my ivory soul,       a meat shield to break for others. The fine wine, trickles down first my lips then my chest, way down to my shady feet.       a cradle for disease and emotion. Ashes within my thoughts, for my brain is smouldering with jealousy, a walk way with beautiful people.     a load of redundancy and tradition. Five hundred miles in each direction, somewhere has my mind. Believe in God they say, they say.   a train wreck of to do's and do nots Here are my views, take them or leave them, they construct upon the base of a newly born child.   a piece of literature that is incomplete. Ho-ho! we dream, and dream we shall, until reality intermixes with our desires and so we wait.   a bitter, polluting waste in nature's mouth. Forget the self for a moment, what do you get? I think, you think, we all think...death.