I’m fine just like this.
I’m not complying.
Nor complaining.
Hope not mansplaining.
I’m just cruising.
Hopelessly wondering.
I’v come to terms.
And this world is there.
As is, fine and troubled.
Not fine, more trouble.
Fierce and spears.
Tears and gasses.
Opression and slavery.
Hopes down, this is the law.
My knee will show you: God.
God chokes but doesn’t kill.
Cops is another a deal.
Guns give power to the people.
It’s that first amendment deal.
The new deal must add that.
To leave things the way they are.
As we are far from right.
Yet the far right is here.
Right here pointing at you.
It’s gonna bite you in the ass.
Or shame you through that hat.
It’s burnning crosses in your heart.
And confederacy flags and dunces.
As if this great continent was once ours.
Yet the narrative is forgiving and white.
We must aknowledge what was once.
And then let go and keep on our flight.
This struggle is still our fight.
But fate will have us taking another road.
As we must follow and untold fall.
We all find it hard to part and let go.
Yet, as we are, we will behold.
For chances are straight up we must aim.
To fly away from this place.
And land another time and space.
Yet, the statue is still there.
We have not move far from here.
Again we’ll discover in the way.
To move away today in pain.
To leave behind this fine realm.
As it’s not real, nor there.
It’s all inside your head.
A poets wits in threads.
To cluster posters of succes.
A vision largely unseen.
A new way to begin.
A final trace for this ordeal.
As we are glancing at our fears.
Yet power still displays its paws.
To make a stand upon desire.
To clear the throat of virus spread.
To keep the fear still within your skin.
To cancel leaps and strikes and hopes.
To conceal the anger within at once.
As it must not break out of control.
The one thing this system wants.
To keep things ancient and untouched.
To kill revolt as no other world is due.
Because HE said so then and now.
It’s in the scriptures and the sermons.
It’s our faith in infinite growth.
No matter if our Earth can’t breath.
No matter if the climate changes.
No matter if the infamous cinics rule.
It’s all within the scope of affairs.
To leave the masses at the edge.
To feel the joy of goals and gossip.
As you don’t care enough.
It’s not on you.
Keep on.
Still.
Within.
Ill.
Alas.
I…
die…
