Dangerous, I must be
Going mad —
Against all odds,
I am content.

Driven by the lesser instincts,
Lizard locked away the monkey man —
I'll be chilling in the backseat
Until I am myself again.

Pulling loose strings of logic,
Knowing that they might unravel
Life — if not the very fabric
Of existence as we know it —
Still, not giving a single damn.

Silent majorities
Building the world,
Vocal minorities
Painting the sky —
Wake up and smell
The bullshit.

Fabled primetime games of chance
With fast diminishing returns.
Fool me once shame on me —
But then again, I’ll never learn.

Rest easy, tiny one.
I see you,
And I've got your back.
I've come
Carrying torches
To illuminate you —
You precious
Little known fact.

Dream of possibilities,
How to optimize
The cards you have,
Not implausibilities —
How to change
Your entire hand.

Bell songs chiming,
Serenading
The dead and dying —
What a fine day
Not to feel alive.

Stolen moments
On my own,
Glimpses of
What might have been —
Once settled,
I am not convinced
That I would have been
Better off like this.

I must move on —
I'd love to stay,
But time’s too short
For things worth the wait.

Cracks showing,
Rot stinking
Up to higher heavens,
Best before
Long gone —
Glory wasn't meant to feel
So empty.
Please, don't tell me
I sold my soul
For this?

All that matured,
Old hurt in new verses —
The melody changed,
Its meaning remains.
Over the years
Some words shifted meaning,
Their weighted memory
Still bearing the pain.

Entertainment, our betrayer,
Training grounds for
Games of death —
Fueling apathy,
Silencing reason,
Killing sensitivity.

Fear is Stockholm syndrome,
Reckless abandon,
Embracing the blight —
When letting go
Is certain life.

Chasing freebies
Earns us bupkes —
Free means
You're the currency.

Desperately
Doubling down —
Twice the slots
For twice the cost,
With still no chance in hell
To land on top.

The wise
Fear happiness —
Those random jolts,
So intense,
They dim
All ensuing moments.

Done with colors,
Wild, perilous,
Resigned to live
The gray of decent,
Just to make it
Through the day.

Our strength,
Not our cart.
Our need,
Not our heart —
Off-course,
Alone,
And worlds apart.

Parents dear
Of problems mine,
Save me from
The mental prison
I've devised.