Ace Of Black Hearts

Bronze Star - 2,422 Points (04/17/1984 / Homa Lousiana)

Distorted Reality - Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

Standing butt naked in the middle of the room.
Among encircled friends, among encircles enemies.
The embarrassment king, with a crate and knoose to swing.
Like a spring going topsy, turby.
Bouncing right back in your face.
The water is all the same to the hungry shark.
Just a bite if I might.
A forgotten pledge, a unending allegiance.
No time for grievances.
Complaints placed low on the totem pole.
A bad as it might get, it still is only a stiff neck.
Butterflies in the stomach from a disturbing mirror.
It warps all appearances.
Beauty is only on the inside if you can realize who you can truly be.
There is no foretold destiny.
A mighty ego shattered.
Poking holes through it with such a puny stick.
It is as if it never even existed.
Just who is this man, dress in rags, dirty and dingy?
Is he not the same person when clean cut and shaven?
Is that not what most of us see is just a disguise?
Looking with your heart not your eyes.
Like a jack in the box we wind things up and so we can be surprised.
An identity crisis are the words who am I.
No answer can quite describe the number of illusions set before you.
How do we draw picture with words what we can even see with our own eyes?
Boiling a brew to confuse.
The nails are coming loose.
The building thought to be so sturdy is slowly coming down.
A march straight into the ground.
Listening for crashing thud but never comes, because it can only be felt.
An emotional snow melt.
So frozen, so disassociated, an ostracize ghost what would he know.
Just another recluse with a couple too many screws loose.
Okay if that answer is satisfying enough for you.
I don't dare manipulate the mind with what I think is.
It is always been for me what could be for no philosophy is completely proven.
It is more of a way of life, avenues traveled, dirt ate, kicked up gravel.
Wishing for something so simple.
Erasing that ugly pimple, so self centered, so indifferent, why is it we can't escape it?
Why is it considered so evil to love your fellow man woman and child.
No matter creed, class, race, looks, religion.
So many different defamations of ones character.
How does one rectify the continuation of this idiosyncrasy?
How does one combat a human trait which we deny exists each and everyday in the first place?
Everybody is looking for what they believe to be normal.
Nobody is willing accept we all are.
No matter how far one might have seem to have strayed.
There is no cliffs edge to keep you at bay
Standing in a circle we do go all different ways.
Perspective to whom?
Observe and watch this animals funny behavior.
Look at the different reactions received from so many different people.
How can you even begin to truly prescribe a clinical diagnoses to individual with no set ways.
All one really can see is patterns.
Similarities in a persona.
No standard to which we should all follow.
We must live as we are, not as someone else wants us.
A line to stand on and tip toe down before getting off.
A aha as the march ends.
I now know where I am going.
But what does that really mean?
Have you been lost all this time?
Or have you walked a certain path and didn't like its results?
Interesting thoughts to which a bitter bargain can made.
We can be ignorant and and walk with this feeling temporary bliss thinking it can never end.
Or we can learn from which we see, and choose more carefully.
Time is the only challenge that truly stands before us.
For no matter how we equate the hollow mortality, it is still there. And it tempts us to do things we otherwise wouldn't be so foolish in doing.
And the funny thing is it keeps setting those who want live the most off desperately, madly searching for a way to lengthening by any means necessary.
So we come into this mad dash, to busy to savor the very existence we are given.
A competition of dirty tricks, killers, and thieves.
A I'll take it all as soon as I can so someday on a beach I can enjoy it too.
Those are the thoughts with out grasping how morbid and obscene that really is.
No thoughts about the odds that we won't make it to that dream paradise.
Bound for either success or failure of they go with no moral compass keep the car at a steady pace or even on the road.
A accident waiting to happen, and even worse others not so willing are to suffer by there hands.
Markets designed to enslaved the entire human race into euphoria type belief.
With a knife I'd like to make a cut, do a little sewing, perform a major surgery.
But as in all other furry little creatures survival is a basic instinct.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, December 19, 2013

Poem Edited: Thursday, December 19, 2013

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