My Story, In Utero Poem by andrew reeves

I'm caught in this world of social media too
Looking at all the amazing stuff
And the things I'll never do
Wandering how this all came to be
So I'll take this back to the beginning
Not of time or of Adam and eve
Or even the beginning of me
But just the beginning of Jackson
Mississippi
As irrelevant as it may be I have a need
To tell this story
From a safe haven
A place suitable to step aside and raise a family
To a city like my hometown
A city where the streets are distressing and every weekend
Seems hell bound
I reach into the collective mind up in the sky
Break away from the present and speak of a place
Somewhere in the future
In retrospect I find beauty and a muse
But in the present I feel morbid, slowly dying
Confused
The cities' streets are lined with towering buildings
Superseded with renovation and construction scaffoldings
The largest are the banks and sky rise buildings that store the living
And governmental associations of authority and power
While the basements are crawling with the homeless
That beg for shelter and food hour to hour
Or hustlers that rampantly drive from places with prowess
On a timeless chase of the American dream
For money and praise and the same glory the buildings
That tower proclaim to have gained
An illusion, so many disillusioned by the faulty promise
Or maybe the desire is the mere ability to pay homage
To those respected and deserving to be honored
The hearts that burn with passion to fashion a world more suitable
The marines that endure hardships like the crucible
And the outspoken beliefs of pride immutable
A city where the roads embody the condition of its people
Rough and rigid with holes unfitting and unable to be properly filled in
With rebellious clay and an underlying foundations that is constantly shifting
In the shadows crack houses lurk and old building conjure
Waiting for the next crowd to sing and dance the blues
Or maybe go seek reprieve after a long, stressful, boring work week
Missionaries committed to God's work and his mission
Much more aware of the cities condition
Than the individuals in power at the top of state buildings
We try to escape the transmission
Sitting, waiting, wishing for fulfillment
Until then, we are like ingredients in an inflamed kitchen
Ready to conduct business that is endless
Freedom is ours, as long as we get permission
You see I'm not quite the man I have been in other times
Things have come and gone and my own integrity compromised
Maybe if I joined the army I would have gained a fervent discipline
My own peace outweighed the competitive nature and cultural will to win
I am a master crafter of polarity, oppression, succession, I am the dividend
American pride says we are the best, with infinite weaknesses
We dare to confess, yet the strongest survive
With all the glory and shame wrapped up combined
They say that champions win from the inside
But life is mostly lived on the outside
Salvation is found in a balancing act of interdependence
Primal beings conflict of interests contending
Superficially offending, actually pretending
To care, or even to really be there
But the mind is but plastic
Filled with bad habits and addicts living life
Or not, scenes can be tragic
The chase for true love, or entertainment and magic
A superstar raised in the country condemning the city boy faggot
Neglecting the gold produced by the burning
The love and affection for which that child is yearning
It's a conflict of interest, polarity disconcerting
Never been intrigued with politics
Nonetheless, a slave to it
Greek gladiators, UFC Champions, and the presidential elections
Categorizing frame of mind in political sections
Just to see that Time is erased
Just to know that the time will change
Slow and steady wins the race
But in these wars there is no graceful pace
Just the will to win
I'd almost like to see Hilary just for something different
The amazing feats of modern technology
Transforming constantly, the nature and capacity of our biology
Gratitude immense, sometimes breeding incompetence
Innovation providing limitless providence
The public stage challenging prejudice and intolerance
While simultaneously challenging self-esteem and confidence
Internal locus of control fostering self-reliance
The limits of decadence producing needed confidants
Bottomed out movements making pop-lock-and drop it dense
Musterbation, intoxication, without any common sense
The wheels on the bus fell off and they haven't made any profit since
And now the children of the world are trying to give the prophet hints
That which has been lost, will be recompensed
Progression is the effect of what's considered pestilence
Sometimes the difference can't be made by sight through the common lens
But I digress
Open wide to suck in the drama, if in fact the world is a stage
Dig deep down to deal with the trauma, if the story endures the next page
Imperative caution when bullets leave the barrel on a regular basis
Gun shots in the air but you know they are not always faking it
Wandering when one may fly through my window
This is war so when you see me alone don't assume I roam solo
I am Netflix, You're just Marco Polo