Ode to They

It seems they make it fucking hard,
I kill, I run, I go so far.
And yet, it seems, I�m in a dream
I can�t escape; or so it seems.

Why must they tell their fucking lies?
It seems they�ve got something to hide
But the truth I feel inside;
Just let me off this fucking ride.

A dream; a glimpse, a tip, a clue
To try and learn�s all we can do.
And sometimes, with this knowledge comes
A weapon; well, at least for some.
Please let me off this fucking ride
Been tossed around from side to side.
I�ve wallowed, wasted in this grime.
To use my weapon�I�ve no time.

The strobe light flicker in their eyes
It�s not their hatred I despise.
But rather, their reality
And how they love insanity.

Goddam it! I want off this ride,
I�ve really nowhere else to hide.
These laws I simply can�t abide
So truth remains hid, deep inside.

This page and the contents within are copywritten (©) strictly to Shawn S. Partington.
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