Deseased Decisions

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    Deseased Decisions



    I could...

    throw a temper tantrum...
    Like a toddler in his "terrible twos"
    Protesting his mother vigilantly and loud
    Kicking, screaming, crying "MURDER!"
    Generally causing a huge spectacle in a crowd
    Inviting every abled pair of eyes to gawk at my display
    I would be so upset with the punishment I faced
    the entire planet would be hushed by my juvenile shouts

    ...but what's the use?


    I could...

    keep it bottled inside behind iron bars...
    Keep this secret solely between me and myself
    Shy my insecurity away from society
    Never giving the world their chance
    to ridicule, persecute, judge and/or taunt
    my body as it slowly disintegrates layer by layer.
    Speak not of this vulnerable fact and
    live out what's left of my hermit life

    ...but what's the use?


    I could...

    be vengeful of the destiny that I, in actuality, put into place...
    By myself, for myself, to myself, -despite myself.
    And thus projecting my anger and rage
    unto countless unsuspecting victims I meet.
    Reveling in the evil delight that I am vindicated and justified
    by infecting someone else with the doom "I didn't ask for either."
    Symbolically taking back some misperceived form of control.

    ...but what's the use?


    I could...

    use any one of these actions...
    or I could choose a number of others on a list
    Expressing how I feel deep within the very fibers encasing my soul.
    Resonating, rattling my inner core. my entire being
    Simultaneously exploding all of them outward, upward
    in a chaotic confusion that makes ears bleed.

    ...but what's the use in any of that?



    So I'll just continue like I have always done
    with the knowledge and understanding
    that there is something new that doesn't conform
    to the previously monotonous clockwork patterns.

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    Sunsh1n3 commented on Deseased Decisions

    02-16-2009

    Thats very deep,and on point ... i understand where your coming from ...

    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    DH’s Poems (15)

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