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Rise Above It

A man who lacks a sleep schedule. In a home that houses not only him But his very own mother His daughter who comes equipped with Her very own mother too Honey girl rises with the sun and sets with the moon. Daddy is her best friend. Somehow, he is always there for her no matter What time may it be? For why does not daddy sleep? She will say one day without a windowed doubt. He walks All by himself Blue jeans, long sleeved shirt, tennis shoes Fitted hat with a straight pressed bill; seems… Worn out Hidden from (and) Visibly talking to no One foot in front of the other He walks All by himself At high pace; silently Casual, rhythmic by stride Jacketing immersed anxiety But he seldom is seen By anyone; in society And he is always let down. By everyone, in society Eyes roll, heads turn Cupped hands cover lips Sweet nothings’ whisper Secret seams; normal Tag-less numbers label Issues of social security Knock-knock Who’s there? Phantom shadows of sound Ringing in his lonesome Here’s this man He adores his daughter. Abides her; hopes of Something better than, this now He has an old laptop computer Pretty much everything He writes… Anything connected within A damned near perfect philosophy Portentously troubled, menaced by all means Principals prove morally taxing on him. Hiding from his own potential Running to the wind He becomes dehydrated through strife Overwhelmed by mourning gloom Tears seldom form to become drops. He employs his artificial tears with reckless abandon. A good gift idea for his daughter… Two other children miss their father as well. He has been estranged due to unfortunate circumstances. Enough baggage to claim life Even with his complexes With mint-mental ability Soul tight kung-fu reflexes Moral catlike agility At home, his very own mother Belittles him amongst siblings Reputed to be a worthless son and Dead beat dad As strangers look him in the face and Negatively judge… Eyes roll as their teeth lie… Normal individuals with Perfectly normal complexities Ironically riddled with the same complexity, Accept his complex Rationalized by outright awareness In this society, we all are subject to change. That’s fancy for lie. Lie about normal now and again Today find normal Just out of arms reach Tomorrow find perfect Becoming normal, as equals Normal is presumed to be a base lined standard. In the middle Normal! For crying out loud! You’re not normal? For crying out loud! Perfect is impossible? For crying out loud! Lie about your true self and that you are. Why? Normal becomes perfectly inadequate by direct perception Intentionally designated It is unlawful to partake in normal activities. Frowned upon Too much hype involved with perfection and The illusions we all are creating. Illusions that we all create Equally created in, when Born into this world without a choice Thereafter we are gifted with free will The ultimate inheritance of choice A perfectly normal, everyday blessing New life and A normally imperfect negative latter In death Life’s ultimate paradox The almighty enabler of self doubt and conspicuous minds Trust that we so freely lend out In our early years; youth Trusted belief, inevitably broken By none other than our dearly beloved Mom and Dad directly lie to our faces Brothers’ and sisters’ join in and Lie… Lie… Lie… Worse than he had ever imagined as This innocent trust is top of the line. An irreplaceable quality of man and Man strips away belief from man; Every single perfectly normal day This man who lives with his mother And loves his daughter He will inevitably break her little heart too. Paper thin differences, as he is only separated by His conscious awareness of such reality Dust pools from within his eyes as artificial tears Are bone dry and money is hard to come by Poverty drives this man, nearly to the edge… Suicidal and guilt stricken He cannot take his pitiful life away From that little girl She is the miracle of hope this man needs One man alone, is incapable of trudging Through the sands of This let down life At least Not without reason(s) to find his; The courage to provide Always and forever, Hope remains Within One of you; Or maybe two That One fine day He just may Rise Above It To Make dreams come true

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

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Date: 6/26/2016 3:32:00 PM
Ironic Zinc adding a personal comment: Well, I really enjoy reading this poem to myself (silently). I do need to give some of my own audio justice a whirl. That's for sure. But I am technologically bound by my out dated equipment combined with my compulsivity. Just want to say to anyone and everyone willing to listen, please allow yourself how! Give yourself an opportunity. Be great. Just be you! Embrace the awkwardness that is holding you back. Lift it. 1,2,3-Not It! Tag foo... You're it!
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Date: 6/18/2016 9:02:00 AM
Hi IZ :) I really enjoyed reading your poem!! I can tell you put a lot of effort into this... or maybe you are one of those writers who just lets it roll off the pen with no effort, but it's really an amazing poem. It's very hard to judge contests and only give a few wins. I never want to discourage anyone by not placing their poem... I just hope you are happy with what you wrote and that you were inspired (hopefully) by the contest to product this amazing poem. Congrats on that, and hugs x
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Ironic Zink
Date: 6/18/2016 10:15:00 AM
Aka thank you! iroNic ZinC (of illusion)
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Ironic Zink
Date: 6/18/2016 10:13:00 AM
I am D. All of the above—currently prevailing nature is A. This poem kicked my butt; taking around 6hrs of editing without flinching, winking, or blinking and my brain stinking—More seriously so, I tossed it my best effort, which was slightly rushed, anxiety stricken, nail bitten, finger clinching, arm flexing, paranoid need to impress the 'hottest' new poet—whose entice set my sights high on gloopers pot tasting a hug becoming poetry