Blinded By The Past

My past lingers in the air.
A future unclear, a life unfair.
All I do is stand and stare.
When will someone hear my prayer.


My plans lie in wait.
Balancing luck with fate.
So many options on my plate.
Got to get my head straight.


The answers lie ahead on the track.
Running, but the wind pulls me back.
Eyes drowning in the color black.
Languishing, I watch my life crack.


The way out I must find.
Create a clear path in my mind.
Let life with color bind.
This way, I will no longer be blind.

Eyes Of Another Lying Bastard

Look at you,
sitting strung-out,
pleading with
those treacherous
unconvincing eyes.


Perspiration dripping,
as your facade
begins slipping,
while your bull-shit,
trips over truth


Lies ooze
from every pore,
as all those stories
I’ve heard before,
dance the tango
on that bitter tongue.


You think I believe you?
No bastard…
This is the last time
you’ll deceive me…

I'm With You

Think of me, as I dream of you.

Feel my loving fingers caress

your face as I touch your picture.

Hear me when you ponder over my words,

on all those letter I send.

Although our love may seem pretend

remember in my mind,

I am always with you till the very end,

and who knows, perhaps beyond.

Always Looking

Years of decay,
flaunted like a parade.
the purpose I believe
is to fuel my ever growing rage
for a love that died and
left me blind,


trapped...


A prisoner held by
remorse and mistrust.
I roam these dreary corridors
looking for reminders of her.


But the good times
are hidden behind cobwebs and rust.


Hanging in my parlor,
the place one hides when tears erupt
is a photograph of her...
Lovely blond,
blued eyed she is.
She glares from behind the glass.


Seated in my crumbling
chair of self-pity
I look at her so pretty and fair.


She always screams bastard,
bastard, god damn
you jealous fucker!


I'm forced to think of something else.

Stay A Float

Outside the confines
of my dark,
insanity filled
chamber of doom
I focus on the sun,
and its intense shining light.


I ask a question
of a form so bright
so powerful providing
life with all its might.


'Why so proud?'


I whisper,
as I drift away,
drift into another
over pondered memory
that forever clouds my vision
and ties such answers
to a piece of drift wood,
drifting down my guilt filled river,
always getting away.


I will catch it...
but first I must
learn how to swim...
Or at least stay a float.

Politics & Charisma

It’s all the same you know
politics and charisma is just a show.
Hand in hand they go passing
bull shit to an thro.


They are actors on a stage
who read their lines from a page…
Words that some pen pusher
wrote to make them look good
and get another vote


Dress rehearsals are a regular thing.
God some of them brown Noses can sing…
When a promotion's in The air.


But I must declare It’s the worst show I’ve ever seen.
When I asked for a refund they said,
‘oh no Sir... don’t be so obscene.'

Who Gave The Order

Who gave the order,
the order to kill,
a man in his prime
for daring to rise
from his knees?


For daring to
free his land from
a tyrants cruel hand?


For the crime of
uniting a nation,
so all would
stand together as one?


When the deed was done...


Tell me you
who gave the order,
the order to kill
another good man?


Did you smile,
while millions cried?