Sometimes, I think god molded me from earth’s trashy clay. Day after day my pile of clay didn’t erode away, it had stayed! Not perfect, laid upon stains of my mother’s shame, and quickly Accumulated from the debris of all the suffering human beings. Produced emotions of Russian roulette; 50% chancre Ill win the bet, 75% chance Ill forget, and that’s the reason I’ve had to pay my debt. As a lost boy in society, armed with a sharpie and a card board box. Having a one sided conversation down a long and deserted sidewalk. Inebriated off of alcohol, made me discover the reason for my downfall. Enthralled by my tears; was an epiphany from 25 years of hidden fears. Discovering the only logical answer to the meaning of all things living. Was floating in the air between the lies of reality and my fantasies To do whatever you want to do, and not worry what others may say Cause we; the human race, are made with the same imperfect clay. So I won't ever go away, for my life will mean something someday. Until death cuts my goodbyes, and life stops giving me tries. Ill watch the sunrise, and continue to see what underlies.
An Epiphany for You
Posted - 09/28/2010 : 09:59:50
