Delusion has become my favorite toy
and I delude myself with most might
An intrusion into my own lost joy
stopping me short of any just sight
But delusion is my only one true mate
and it serves me well to shield me
When I feel I'm too good for fate
I use it effectively to excuse me
I have a fear of a fear to thrive
It takes a world of people to fool
And the world here keeps me alive
if it can get past my doubt rule
The garbage is my curtain from pain
the wish kill the ending game of blame
Mystery is a choice, and I pick rain
for it will block the sun of fame for fame
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A vision haunting the boy
wreckage on a desert path
A delusion finished him off
festered in him as his wrath
His tongue whipped out quick
and slapped his critics and fans
Making the decision to trance
in the world amongst hungry lands
He whispered truths all vile
yet describing them and virtue
With fervor and fever's wind
as a weapon as a longing torture
He died as any poet might
with all wanting more and more
With all missing his lost point
vigil every loser every whore
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I'm going to start a toolbox
filled with a fury fox and some socks
wrenches
wenches
sandwiches
and lox
I'm going to start a chest
filled with a sporty vest, tube of Crest
cheeses
diseases
cherry freezes
and rest
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a shadow
a strange dream
an ever changing curse
a toy never played with
a fever that infects the mind
a hollow find of gold and silver
a gift given to the kind
a wish made and pointless
an always hurting wound
a loud scream
a shadow
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what mystery if we let it be
what horror can be a dream
a quest for truth that isn't
a discouraged journey wasted
seeking the things unknown
and seeing nothing known
what wonders our life is
it is a miracle of a wish
and this wish is the mystery
observed by the fantasy
revealed in the reality here
in the poles of bliss and fear
in our creation comes the event
the vision is the icon of ascent
and closing the eyes of wit
we find the fall from pith
it's no wonder full of rhyme
only space about the time
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Closing my right eye I see
the past, the summer of youth
the rotting bee feeding apples of fall
of my youth when I was free
Sun tanned and blonde, warm
younger then than I feel now
the cool breeze of hose water
that buffered us from harm
Frozen shallow puddles of hope
of high fighting fantasy pinned up
upon dreams of happy adventure
awaiting my escape by rope
So where did the fracture start
when hope turned to helpless
or when weather turned bitter
when guilt began to start
Those lofty summer fleeting sighs
that drove me on to each day
came crashing down onto reality
and wet my stare into cries
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Rain falls where it should
as if it knew it's destiny
then rises vapor
As human I don't
I don't have a slightest clue
only on paper
Yet rain falls to Earth
and without a second thought now
and without the fear
As human I'm lost
and the only rain I know
falls down as a tear
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Will they measure my worth
by the neglect of my physical girth
Or can they read these words
with the wisdom that they are lords
That they hold the key to this
wondrous mystery abound a mist
That each translation bares
the answers to our hopes, fears
But the secrets aren't for me
for I know not a whisper or plea
I've never known what fuels us
or what nerves and kills all of us
You as reader as explorer find
a wish in every word, rhyme and line
That it was obvious I hadn't heed
for I had to feed and you to read
The secrets are in your questions
not in my explosive aberrations
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