Dumb

Here comes old Jer’

Ringing the parlor with his tricks,

Sayin’ the right words,

Doin’ the right things,

All in an attempt,

To be seen as human.

Only the Good Writers Hate Themselves

It seems to me,

That the most genius

And the most wise,

Are often the most mad.

As the only difference

Between madness and genius,

Is sinking

Or swimming.

T.S Elliot Was a Psychic Poet

When you go to get your

Filthy, deep-fried slop

At your local McDonalds

You don’t look at the person

Behind the cash-register,

As a human being.

With thoughts,

Emotions,

Desires,

Ambitions,

Friends,

Family.

No, they’re the

Underpaid teen

Who gives you your

Fucking food.

When you work

At the seedy 7/11

Where the homeless

Give out handjobs

For five dollars each,

You don’t look at

The customers

As humans beings

With jobs too,

With children,

With stressors,

With needs,

Or with soul.

No, they’re only

Consumers to you.

That you’ll never see

Again.

There’s truly something

Wrong with a society,

When the common man and woman

Is just another cog

In the factory gears.

And we all think that

That’s okay.

A Great Mind

A great mind breaks,

From the pressure

It is under.

A great mind snaps,

From the fakeness,

From the fodder.

i just want something real to happen

the simple truth is

i want something real to happen

i want to people to listen

Not just wait their turn to talk

i want people to feel

not just pretend

i want humans

to be humans again