Indents that form as rivers,
flowing away a barrow,
smooth the touch,
uncertain of how so it all,
it happens just as so.

Decided by a pale tone,
nor in a hue of sorrow words,
burned away,
crisp and rattled,
the deed of it,
deep and done.

Broken away from it all,
a simple puff of it all did it all,
so easy to light it,
lazing away,
forgetting it all.

Cold within,
while being stone hard outside,
with a frown face,
that never once knew what a smile was,
gone just as a snip to the hair.

decaying . . .
they are just mind words,
to one point,
unsure for most,
if they hold an impact,
as they it will never happen to them,
that’s it is okay,
to live carefree,
with no worries.

And before long,
you’re found in the next street wreck,
living the wild life while carrying or giving away sickness without knowing,
being in a robbery gone badly wary,
found in the hospital nearing the light or the morgue,
found at the bottom of the river because you were just too trusting.

There is short cutting it,
if someone says,
that will never happen . . .
please know,
you’ll forever be a dumbass thinking otherwise,
you’re not a comic book hero,
you got one shot in life,
and you wasted it away.

And again for what,
for living a dream life,
that took more than gave;
think this over,
before you jump ship.

And land on thick,
so boiling thick lava,
eating away at you,
because you took a step on the wayside.

Repeat to yourself,
on this day,
I’m only an idiot for thinking I am next superman . . .
I’m not.

I can be a street doctor,
a low rank fireman,
a desk cop,
a questionable lawyer,
a hopeless teacher,
a free lance writer who has dreams . . .
maybe someday join the Navy or Army,
because in a way,
the world might not come a dying end,
but if needed be,
I can at least hold off that bitter end,
just a while longer.

But I am no superman,
nor ever will be,
there are no short cuts,
if they are found,
the faults of them will follow,
and only weigh down the overall goal.

Never frail off to the wayside,
even for a blissful moment,
it is,
but for it,
to mean everything,
holds nothing,
in the long wrong.

Not everything is going to be crack up,
as others say they are,
because there is no short cuts,
even when stepping on the wayside,
they give warnings to turn back,
on a blind eye,
some never do,
until too late.

Repeat again,
I am no superman,
in a moment to forget everything,
I’ll fall to the wayside,
and just let myself go,
but I have to remember to wake,
and aim for my goals.

to others,
they don’t look fair,
and unneeded,
it’s a start of a step,
words of a dream,
a grasp of trying,
and soon,
I am there.

Took itself long enough,
stress and all,
but it far better,
than being on the wayside of life.




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