In Progress

In progress…

 Peering through the glass door,

                One just never knows,

                                What the depths will bring you,

                                                Or if the hole will close.

Looking at the earth,

                It breaks my heart in half,

                                Yet, I still don’t know,

                                                If there is a true path.

Trapped behind a curtain,

                I sat by idle and cried,

                                No freedom or respect their,

                                                And no matter what I lied.

It all just seems so crazy,

                So fucked up and surreal,

                                What I had to do for survival,

                                                Begrudgingly… start to feel.

The really big issue was that, I never got to heal,

from all of the suffering, pain and utter shame,

being on top of the world ,

                                then wanting to blow myself away.

The rollercoaster up and down,

                Made my mind twist and turn round and round,

In a ridiculous circle,

                                (Have you seen that internet commercial?)

                                                                The wild comments and allegations,

But I worked there too and,

And even then, had my own reservations,

But I wanted to help,

The suffering addicts,

                To find the life,

                                                I thought I had,

Until I did some reading,

                                Which made me feel sort of sad.

I somehow feel guilty,

                But know if was not my fault,

                                And yet that does not seem to,

                                                Jive with the all the thoughts, in my unconscious vault.

I never wronged,

                I loved and cared,

                                For others whom my empathy,

                                                Was completely shared.

See,

That is just the problem,

                The issue that I have,

                                I just feel things so deeply,

                                                Which sometimes makes me very sad,

It comes and goes,

                Mind ravaged with madness,

It feels so numb only, fro – Zen

The pathless path,

I was once on,

                Or so it feels,

                                On my brand new, Road to ashes.

Cause here’s the thing,

                Here’s the catch,

                                I know in my heart,

In the bottom of my soul,

                I must die again,

                                Like ashes in my pipe bowl.

I am afraid,

I am unsure,

                                                It makes no sense,

                                                                                                And is quite fucking obscure.

This psychedelic trauma,

                And the rest of the Trip,

And it feels like an iceberg,

                This is only the tip.

Sure I had some issues,

                Who the fuck does not? 

Write it on the tissues,

Used to untie my minds knot,

                Of which all,

Was the credit that you took,

                                Did you write my thesis too?

Did you write my fuckin book?

                                These words are only,

                A representation of how I feel,

I wish you could see,

                How it is for me sometimes to deal.

 I cannot blame,

                I cannot point the finger,

But the struggle I have,

                                                Is that it still lingers,

Within my vast,

                Psyche in fact,

                                But I still have trouble,

                                                Knowing how to act,

In many situations,

                What the hell is that supposed to mean,

                                                SITUATIONS.

I guess that’s the thing,

                When we are all really asleep,

                                And unaware of the fact,

                                                That most of us are just a bunch of fuckin sheep.

I have a real problem,

                With being a sheep myself,

                                and I know that most of time,

it is very bad, indeed, for my mental health.

For no one likes a person,

                who comes off as confident,

                                and Ill tell you sometimes,

                                                it is hard to pay the rent.

In this world,

                This place that we have built,

                                9-5, 44 hours a week,

                                                While our being just continues to wilt.

A fuckin madman,

                I must be,

                                To make the any of the claims,

                                                That I be,

 Whatever.

 That’s just the Alberta in me,

                The redneck, yes indeed,

That can’t see all as equal,

                Or that people that are in need,

Of a community that gives,

                Not tears us all apart,

                                A community of love,

                                                That we all take in part,

Some responsibility and some real reflections,

                And a lesson to be learned in freedom,

                                A thought that when we look at him,

                                                Not everyone wants to be him.

Or him, or her,

                In your fuckin little cult,

                                Wake the fuck up, and realize,

                                                The abuse that you have dealt.

This is the voice,

                The voice of just,

A scared little boy

                                A child who loved, and cried, and felt fear,

And at times could also be very coy…

2006-2009 Kyler Evans, All rights reserved.

NOTE: Permission for the use of my images is granted for personal websites and blogs (THAT MEANS NO ADDS AND NO SELLING OF ANY KIND) but must include a link back to this site and proper credit given to me for my work, Kyler Evans.

Link to be used…(https://arisingphoenix.wordpress.com/)

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