Uncover

Tearing a poem in two, ripping a part an entire idea insanity or ingenious, unthinkable or approved, forbidden who knows One important question: is traitor now the title I bear a traitor to myself, betrayer to everything I stand up for a traitor to the millions of poets out there, betrayer to the art God, don't let it be; I can't lose the vent which brings me fresh air Poetry is all I know, the life I live I couldn't escape, runaway if I tried; exile would prove unbearable but the difference, there is none My exile om social distortion reigns every single day between the moments I feel I could write forever to the moments when I'm running on an empty tank Machines, I hollowly laugh at how heavily I've depended upon the resource to manipulate my thoughts to fall in line like soldiers instead of having enough trust and faith to build upon my own legacy with my own ability My words, now, are enormous, pointless sedatives a lullaby for even myself, not even getting past the fourth word The edge, the drive, the fire contained in my liberal lyrics flushed out, extinguished once again Shamefully, it's one more thing I've watched slip through my fingers like sand I was once a man of black and white who created an entire galaxy filled with a multitude of color Could it be, the world stole my skin while I was in slumber WHY MUST A PRICE BE SETTLED FOR AN OUNCE OF... oh, just for an ounce of happiness...selfishly for me My face to the sky, wondering why I turn my back to the clouds, buried face down in grass Breathe in for today, scream for tomorrow catching myself praying for a sparring match with fate to prove I can change myself into something positive though it casts me down as pessimistic I'm honestly so sick of this...reached my wits end No surrender, surrender but maybe I just need to fall apart I already feel possessed by a broken mess a shadow of myself The truth is waiting to be uncovered What will be discovered I don't know