Story Time Poem by Matthew Holloway

The world is a book
And I its co writer
I write the lines of reaction
To the events forced upon me
Not as much the craftsman
Shaping the world as I see fit
But more the commentator
Speaking clean from my heart
The musings of anger
The fiery words I keep hid
Burn with the passion
Of a love all to often denied
I scorn the world through pain
Blame my poor misfortunes
On a twisted mortality
Then in a clarity of thought
I know and I have seen
That the world is at loss
Praising false idols false loves
For greed and sensation
All that they crave and accept
Oh the disaster of what they sought
The call out for the nice man
Cometh, cometh the nice man
But standing still I do not come
Let them suffer as I have done
Let the suffer, till suffering is done