The mind is a strange thing, patterned with feelings
Layered with rage, as thoughts splatter the ceiling
Battered and bleeding, from years of negligence
My intelligence is going through a renaissance
Now provide your analysis, show me your thoughts
Throw me to god, let him repair me……I’m flawed
For I once was a thinker, at one with my mind
I moved on with society, while that tumbled behind
Mentally blind, my wit withers and dies
amongst flittering eyes, women and clothes
Cars, athletes, football, swimmers, and boats
Winters are cold, but my heart keeps thumping
Three tickets were sold, the guitar keeps strumming
I’m off my seat jumping, amalgamated faces in a blur
Car races in the ‘burbs, we’re wasters smoking herbs
Is this my life? Puberty has passed, lost in the past
No riposte and no laugh , I feel sad and lost on this path
The spot on the map, of my minds eye, leads to anguish
My life is a plane and I need it landed
Can’t you see I’m vanquished?
Heart beats in the distance, heart beat in my chest
Do I live for myself, or live for the rest?
The death of society, is our need to mature, we’re torn
For none is more innocent, than one recently born
Insolent, belligerent, ignorant, but vigilant
Choked in paranoia, my soul’s a refrigerant
Childhood is bliss, innocence at it’s pinnacle
But now I feel, old, worn, and hypocritical
I remember my friends, the beach, the toys
As I chill to an old record from the beastie boys
My influence, the path I chose to lead, they revealed
As my heart broke away, tore, and gradually pealed
I decided to write this, while I can
Life, our existence, this whole world, is a scam
We’re hurtfully bland, cursed on this land
Children are peaceful, so live in bliss when you can
Because there is no such thing as ‘The Innocent Man’
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