Me and Poetry

Knocking out poems 10 minutes a time, not one for traditional metre or rhyme, my words are not for imagination capture, of sublime nature, it’s to bring realisation to real issues, our necks on the line, not many realise the truth, all they see is a monetary sign, the thought police in action, your conscious, here’s your fine, a world based on illusion, this is the bottom line, a lot of people woke up in the year 2010 minus 9, 9/11 was the birth and death of a body of truth buried with lime, Feel these words ring within your soul and with the truth you chime, Events happening thick and fast, xenophobic elite, cold blooded caste, You picked a good fight, trying like each divine breath is my last. A fight I chose to accept not as a test, but to polarise, to know with emotion what’s best, for only with the truth can you truly be blessed, everything evil within, to myself i’ve already confessed, i’m all soul baby, i’m all soul baby, and to this I dare any shadow of myself to contest, no ill intent meant, my vexin is laid to rest, happiness and ‘their’ weakness lays in the family nest, solid bonds striking fear into ‘their’ dark dark chest, illusion’s shattering, an end to the luciferian fest, do your own research, put my words to the test. The only problem is, as an illusion, does any of this really even exist?