pip

Samll chunks and simple easy to reach goals. that's the only way to break this bad bad lazy pattern i'm in.

okay a little slow no the jpd thing this week buut here we are. Another mediocre piece from my past.

The Obvious
I

After all,
who are we to judge

The odor was reminiscent
of a smell fairly common

It wasn't pleasant,
but not altogether nauseating.

Filling the background
and hardly even noticed

It'd overall effect was nothing

It neither cared,
nor was cared about.

Zack thought about her,
again she seemed blind

Of course she was,
she was preoccupied with Kevin.

Kevin, naturally was gay
and wanted Zack over her any day.

But this has no meaning
at least not yet

Maybe not
we'll soon know.

The frogs and crickets
sing their songs

As though
there was no tomorrow.

Why do they sing?
An annoyance and a weatherman.

Prett tunes,
I listened one day.

I went alone
because they hate those things.

All who wish
to notice.

I was discovered
I ran and lied

Fearing the truth
which dwells inside.

There is more,
butr later my friend.

II

The tree stood
tall and alone

Old and proud
was he

Both wise
and ignorant

Until he was
cut down.

A waste of intelligence
but he should not have been alone

The men cared not
about this worthless tree.

They had a
parking lot on their minds

A parking lot they had to build
to feed their families

Families they choose
to love

Instead of their dreams

the tree didn't
give a thought

to this
as he died.

Which was better,
snuffed dreams or dead wisdom?

The young man
full of passion

Passion sucked away
by a heartless world.

Poor boy
losses hope

and becomes
like his father

Smothers his dreams
and denies his potential

Denies fate
and suddenly

He fears what
he once was

And becomes what
he once fought.

The girl,
thought naturally more stubborn

Is hit young
by the world


"Beauty over brains,
you stupid bitch!

Without tits
your nothing!

Shut up!
You talk to much,

You're not
a man.

You're not
strong.

You are however
dainty and fragile."

Unlike the boy
she never had a chance.

She knows not
what to fight

so she swings
Randomly

and gets called
a bitch.

Her children
worship her

and think she
is what a woman should be

So the cycle
cycles.

too powerful
to be a conspiracy

Too perfect
to be man made

But as the french say,
"C'est la Vie"

III

Tension.
Omnipotent and ever present.

Or so we
let it be.

Is that choice
better than

the trust
or openess?

The roll of toilet paper
goes unchanged,

The garbage spills onto the floor,

Stagnation flourishes
in its wake.

No one stops to notice
I don't know why.

Those that do stop
are cast out

Causing one more step
to nothing.

Oblivion calls my friends,
But other phones ring.