enough

It's.  Never. Enough.

There's a small,  red demon who claws on my back. 

"Gimme more,  Gimme more!"  What flaws he attracts.

Illusions from the graveyard

It's not real.  None of it.

When the sun rises,  we can see how flowers bloom such bold and vibrant displays that put rainbows to shame.   We can hear birds sing glorious tunes of heaven's joy that make the choruses of angels begin to sweat and shake, fearing impending unemployment.  If I'm  not mistaken, the world's biggest apple pie has been in the oven for about forty minutes, and it's ready to come out, sending waves of sweet cinnamon through the air!

But night falls,  and we see the truth.

There are no flowers, only failure and forgotten dreams.  There are no birds, only incompetence and sickness take flight.  

"But what about that pie," you ask?  Your hunger betrayed your senses, and when you opened your mouth to take a bite, everyone you've ever loved hurled you into the snapping, slimy jaws of painful regret. All of your choices in your life have been the wrong ones.  You have no control, and you can't exactly pinpoint the precise moment the world turned to shit.

This isn't real.   This isn't real.

Why bother...

We're living in the Twitter-verse, where clowns and fools have become famous, and somehow through a strange twist of fate, are politicians. They hold no talent and are only equipped with reckless bravado, like the kid who's proud to throw a bottle of Smirnoff to put out a flame. The buffoons and jokers will say anything, and do anything, to press buttons for fake likes because their insecurity of being insignificant paralyzes them. Maybe it's daddy-issues, maybe the air in Mom's basement is finally getting to them, maybe it's simply easier and requires little mental capacity to regurgitate hate, but there's no point in arguing with clowns and fools. Why give this knucklehead any attention? Why let this fool consume another second of your time?

There's no convincing stupidity; it'd be stupid to try.

Liars and Thieves

What's worse: to be a liar or to be a thief?

A liar tells stories because he believes the audience is dumb.  A liar steals your integrity and innocence in humanity

A thief steals because he wants what he lacks. A thief steals your property and confidence in security.

Respect and trust are easy to lose and tough to return.

It's easy to throw a thief in jail, but it's tiresome to imprison a liar.  Then again, is jail ever the answer for rehabilitation?  Nowadays, not so much, when capitalism...oh, here we go...sows the seeds of its own destruction.  In 2018, we have a private industry, owned by corporations, whom use prisoners as a cheaper form of labor.  Who will criticize when criminals are working to pay their debts to society?

Personally, the facts remain within, I have a bonafide problem with any person who lies to me and steals my money.  I stand in arms with my brothers and sisters behind bars who grind their knuckles into the ground for pennies because some bigwig wants to get rich crushing spines of labor.

I'm not exactly a democratic socialist, but more of a labor unionist, and we need to stifle speech and actions of thieves who lie to us so they can get rich.

Capitalism is out of control.

Herb and Sauce

Herb and sauce are all I need...
Feeling lost, I just won't heed.

But herein lies the problem at hand.
Need or want? Issues I misunderstand.

Am I drunk or a liar caught all up in denial;
in a funk, or just floating by passing the while,

free of stress...what lies in disguise;
an app'tite for open eyes?

Best I know, is how to grow, and
how to grow is what I'll show.

Woke

An agenda by men will never be of peace.

Nothing

A thought ran through my mind, arms waving frantically through the darkest, cloudless night with neon glow sticks rainbowing rampantly, to leave this post entitled Nothing blank, and temptation has been averted.

Maybe writing something that says nothing and is devoid of point, rhyme and reason is the true goal.  Otters are still cute.