Posted in Frustrations, LIFE

Born from Spite and Hate

Witness as I play my part in this act of bliss,
Well-crafted ideals; reflections of what I’ve always struggled to miss;
Depreciating the value of a love story, as that’s the aim here.
Providing a false sense of strength, from loneliness and fears,
Comfort found within the accompaniment of a cold beer, 5
And other illegal substances used to make things appear clearer.
Assisting, as we again travel through the years;
Relying on solely, advice that’s already past through these ears,
Acts that’ve left me unrecognizable to a mirror.
Staring deep into these eyes to grasp the real terror here, 10
Finding inside, lies the source of my greatest power;
Addicted to disappointment and frustration, like it’s a white powder
Accustomed to flourishing with a soul on fire
Using these drugs to take myself even lower, when higher
Living off the invincibility found, walking a high wire 15
The opposite of what you feel from the church choir
Establishing belief from the lie; you’re actually one to admire
A sense of accomplishment like it’s appropriate to consider retirement
Persistently, physically and mentally tired,
Operating without a single want or desire; 20
Mere accessories blessed upon us by the designer
Explaining why happiness and joy go against my truest nature
Unfazed by what most would regard as torture
An insight; joyous acts are ‘virus’s’, that leave one weaker.
Parasites unfortunately given life by the maker, 25
Why i now fumigate those adolescent dreams with a sharpie marker
Absentee visions of a wife, a life partner; an empty hearted wish;
That conceals why I choose too no longer prey for this,
Shallow dreams that won’t fulfil the feel of heartfelt kiss,
That won’t paraphrase the act of taking a risk for love 30
Thoughts that speak nothing of (these) images only foreseen as myth.
Unconcerned with the love found within the one you’re with
The one who makes a man secure to make her their Mrs.
She who appears clear, even in the depths of the mist
What makes all straight, when things are left in a twist, 35
Obstacles that can’t be absolved with an overpriced gift
That which would be irresponsible to ever neglect or forget.
Why it’s today apparent; the real blessing, is the concept of a process
Moving past a false reality, that’s perceived as tragic
Like pain felt, is inevitable; something more than just magic. 40
Slowly breaking free from an unnatural spell of madness;
What I was always drawn to like a magnet
So addicted; it actually had me by the neck
Constantly focused on when it’s going to happen to next
An uncommon misconception, life is a little too perfect 45
As its understood everything good, required a signed check
The payment for each new move in this game of chess
Constant reminders; things were far better, far from the best
Perpetuating the lie; it’s appropriate to question the merit of the blessed
Painful memories, that hurt to just confess 50
The will to admit; it’s appropriate to question, any and every merit of trust
An undeniable sign of trouble,
When we’re meant to find comfort within our bible
Uncovering knowledge branded as incredible
Words on paper, with probably as much incite as the federal government 55
A train of thought for which I must now show repentance,
Or serve out the equivalent of a life sentence.
The spiteful sentiment embedded deep in these sentences
A poetic exhibition, with a pure tone of hateful indifference.
Filling out an application with no one to list as a reference 60
As its accepted; no one stands in my defense
Those who’ve long grown unamused by the nonsense
Family and friends uninterested in even hosting an invention via conference call
Those too fatigued to give there all as i again fall
Burdens which explains, it’s not them here, who’s at fault 65
Petty ideals, best concealed away in this mental vault
Ideas preserved next too what remains of such shallow principles
The bases of what defines me today, as an individual;
Another no name poet who finds pride in the lyrical
A forgotten prophet who draws strength from the metaphysical 70
Piecing together answers from the residual
Using past heartache to explain the geniuses of desires for a soul mate
The one and only with an ability to forgive even my greatest mistakes
Words spoken for this new theoretical love story, taking its shape
The rose which now grows from aspirations of spite and hate 75

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