Raining and Pouring, On Halloween Day

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Halloween is that time in the year,

When stereotypes are worn,

And people pronounce their fear.

It’s a time to dress up,

And it’s a time to just be.

But I’ve had my fill of the cup,

And I think I’ll just be me.

I love the merriment of Halloween,

But some personas are better left not costumed.

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Walking Down the Aisle

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Pompous hoorays,
A million bouquets.
She walks down the aisle,
Trying to walk in file.
But she’s tripping and stumbling,
Her mask starts crumbling.
Maybe he made a mistake,
Cause she’s burning at the stake.

These Days

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I did a good deed,
And now I can’t sleep.
They’re up and they’re down,
Always clowning around.
What I need is me time,
But it’s quite forgotteb.
All they see is partyin’
While I’m the one whose dartin’

Me eyes tell my story.
Of weekends and months of deprivation.
Their eyes speak of new vibrations,
While I get to see their “glory.”
I can’t stand the shaking,
Or the constant waking.
But this good deed outlined my days,
So I’ll try to withstand their nights masked in haze.

Directions in Life

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Something is pulling me.

My arms are not my arms,

And this body is foreign.

It grasps and it pulls.

It’s dragging me one way,

While hauling me the other.

I still reign over my mind;

It’ll never control me.

But this body cannot take such brutality much longer.

These directions are endless.

Let’s Talk About Fate

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So my friend told me she believes that everything happens for a reason.

I use to believe that too, just as I believed in the coming of the four seasons.

But one day I learned that not everything happens for a reason but it can happen for a purpose, I’d contrived.

That notion was unsteady in my mind.

I was always told what she believed.

But here, this man, preached such things, and I was left feeling lost and blind.

I felt uncertain; aggrieved.

As the words left his lips,

I knew he was right.

But I couldn’t put to words how I knew he was truthful.

So for months I sat silent, thinking over those words.

“Everything happens for a purpose,” he said.

People blame God for striking some dead.

“Everything happens for a purpose,” I repeated.

I have finally been defeated.

I see the light behind his words.

We choose our own way,

With as much freedom as the shadows in the skies of the world’s bountiful birds.

And while we might fall victim to the notion that everything happens for a reason, we must see that our lives aren’t on a pre-determined tract; no, we’re constantly in the grey.

By the River

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The river is before us,

And I’m petrified of what will become of you and I.

They say “look yonder, thus…”

But over this wall of water is another and another, nowhere close to nigh.

The water is calling you,

I am seeing through,

But you are lost onto

The vast steel cold blue.

Maybe we will win this race.

Maybe we will leave champions of the river.

But just in case,

We should go out with guns blazing, not a lip too familiar to the cowardly quiver.

Their Stresses

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Stresses define you,

Sadness confines true.

And with this deep breath,

Maybe you’ll take in a little death.

Life is around you,

Yet stillness abounds through.

Maybe you’ll learn to live,

And learn to find you’re inner drive.

I can teach you the dance of death.

The one that slowly overcame those like Macbeth.

You’re┬áready for the dive,

But I assure you that there’s no chance to survive.

You don’t want a civil death,

Nor do you pray for a sudden death.

You want to be run through,

But you find it all taboo.