You aren't what they want you to be
SoMe PeOpLe DoN't UnDeRsTaNd
ThAt YoU ArE WhAt YoU ArE,
YoU'rE NoT WhAt ThEy MaKe YoU.
ImAgE Is Of YoUr OwN ChOoSiNg,
It'S NoT WiErD, It'S NoT OuT Of FoCuS,
It'S JuSt YoU.
Watch my lips (there are
no monsters)
We all do it
And you know we do.
Teaching the kids with
Crap they don't need,
Happily choking them on fictional facts.
Manipulating their childish minds,
You know what we do.
Laughing aside, the kids won't know.
I know. I hate you for it, you re-inforce it,
Pushing it in. The kids won't know.
Sure they won't.
Finish what you started
You like it better like that,
and I like you more like this.
Twist and turn till its totally stable,
while both support, both still must fall.
It never really lasts, not now,
it never really starts, not now.
It's lost in the past.
We all yearn for that past,
but it's never coming back.
Were never coming back.
No point looking over
your shoulder with depression.
You'll never change what happened,
it's gonna stay that way.
It might just make you angry.
It might just make you cry.
You might just feel depression
from the hatred locked inside.
You'll never get it back though,
should have held on while you could.
Crippled, with no help from anyone,
Emotional deprivement, Emotional death,
and wishes to the death of emotional deprivement.
Never fucking happens.
It never really lasts, not now,
it never really starts, not now,
it all fucks up, before it even gets the chance.
In need of a change (It
don't make sense)
Have you ever wondered why I'm writing this?
Just to say what I'm here for?
No, it's because I need to,
it's my purpose,
my centre,
it takes me away from a fucked up world
and instead of society exploiting me,
I exploit it,
like a vulture exploits energy
of a beast much more powerful,
much stronger, and much more important.
We don't have equal importance,
if we had equal importance,
we'd all be the same
and the world would be shit then,
the world would be so fucking shit,
and it's not exactly heaven now,
not that heaven has any relevance,
a place proven by science to be false,
a place written down in a book for people
to fall for
and believe.
Anything like this now would only be a cult,
complete madness,
no-one has an open mind anymore,
they're too self confident for it,
they need to get out more,
a hell of a lot further out than they think,
out of their minds,
they need to go fucking crazy,
irrational, madness,
like the world itself
as shit as it is,
it does have that one good factor.
The world is irrational
and so is this work.
Insignificant, it doesn't matter
anything the world is
we are too,
anything the people say
must be true.
I know it doesn't make sense now,
thats because your not open minded,
open your minds eye for once,
tell me what you think,
tell everyone what you think
and stop being so fucking level headed
and so fucking self confident.
It'll make a better person and a better world.
I dare say its over
Greet me, talentless,
bitch of opinions.
Lost it all before you came
to shed myself of old.
New me, old you,
you don't like my old skin,
you can't like this new skin.
It's me.
It's not for you.
{us}
Leave it.
We're all the fucking same,
nameless, ageless, genderless, raceless,
senseless violence is the key to murder
but murder only comes in your form,
it doesn't make you different,
you're our form.
We're all the fucking same,
faceless, placeless, lifeless, loveless,
hateful fists of devious demise
that take their shape only to demand
and to recall the evil
of our form.
I'm Confused (Dedicated
to Spacey)
The atheist, concealed,
wanders toward the church
in slow, black movements.
Creeping, as if to murder
the slow, stale religion
of the christian fool.
A folly, which, at one point
would have accounted
for the creation
of this atheist.
No more.
Following her mind
she revels in her
pleasure of unknowing,
naivity.
She needs no answers,
she has already
felt the truth.
She need not see
the truth,
she only need feel it.
As she melts
the yellow grass
beneath her feet
she feels sorrow
for the times when,
she too,
would believe the folly
of anothers mans truth.
Anothers mans truth
is another mans treasure
or so it seems
and the crowds walk on
and she see's them,
calm but naive,
she has no sight.
She needs no sight to feel.
She wants to feel this place
one last time
before the last time.
She won't walk with the crowd,
thats happened before,
and look where it got her.
No-where.
If naivity we're a place
it would be as fucked as we are.
She's lost now.
She can't remember why
the crowds we're so
pleasing to her ears.
So gentle to her eyes.
So gentle. So old.
A man, stands by her side
but he has no reason,
he wants to see with his eyes
whats real, and whats not.
He could be the atheist
we're he not naive aswell.
Naivity only comes to those
who look with their eyes.
The woman feels him watching
but takes no notice
he can't harm her
she has herself on her side.
He only has God.
Another christian fool
to follow the crowd
to follow the folly
of another mans truth.
Blind unto the atheist,
naive unto the follower.
Both naive in a sense,
naive in her non-believing
naive in his emotions.
He has no reason to feel,
she has no reason not to.
It all ends here
because neither of them
know what happens next.
Locked in a confusion,
locked in their own,
special, naivity.
Death comes as a surprise
to those who don't expect him.
Their destination after that
only depends on them.
Follow what you believe,
don't follow the crowd
if they please you.
Follow how they feel for you,
only then will you know
what happens to these people.
Death knows now.
His inevitable invisiblity
has read him the story before.
He only need wait.
The flint you face to
light the fire
When you break your thoughts
with my will,
you'll realise your no
stranger.
One descended from heaven,
A chosen one?
Fuck you, your no different
to the rapist, the racist,
the dirty little fuckers
who want rid
of their lives.
Hell lives on for them.
What about the other?
The one I dub
"The better lover"?
Fuck that, he has no place,
he never created the human race,
we created each other,
we're sister and brother,
we're all part of the same
fucked up family.
No-one can change that.
Life lives on for them.
From the 7th layer,
from the floating world,
from the ground floor
which we call life,
there's a story to be spun.
I don't lie.
No need to be a liar
to your own face.
Believe in what you believe,
but respect that you're always wrong.
The good can't always believe,
so break free, try to be strong.
Body Farms
The point of this poem
is to rectify those
few sane among us.
You see, every now and then
I get pissed off
with the people.
Popularity tides mostly,
Popularity tides
are those push and pull factors
that push, and pull people
the way they wants.
We being the sane ones
don't drift with the tide,
rather we drift the opposite way.
Thats when people piss me off;
We aren't meant to live a life
with someone elses dreams
we aren't supposed to take a knife
to those who don't believe.
They aren't supposed to twist our arms
to make us what they are
We gotta burn the body farms,
don't grow the way they want you.
The body farms
are created by those
who find differentation
a thing of the past.
No-one can be different
we have to be the same.
Same skin, same tastes.
Everything must change
to suit their tastes.
These are the body farms
but we won't be wiped out.
You can't burn us out.
we aren't weeds
you can pluck.
With our heads
you can't fuck.
We broke free.
We're free mother fuckers,
we broke free from the body farms;
We aren't supposed to live like this
No-one wants to be the same,
Its taking the fucking piss.
This is a shambles, This is a shame.
Time burn the body farms,
we're weeds you cannot pluck.
Time to burn the body farms,
Its farmers time to cook.
This ending chapter
adds salt to the wounds
of those who want this change.
Its mind rape,
sick mind rape.
Whether by religion,
by music, by poetry,
by speech,
were all being grown
in one way or another.
Break free,
don't grow how they want you.
You're yourself
to be what you want to be.
No one can change you,
not me,
not Him,
not anyone.
Free to be you.
Burn out.
