road rage. is like a homemade bird cage.
you trapped yourself. thoughts wrapped tight.
clinched with a belt. you can’t breathe. you can’t
feel. all you do is just blow steam.
with this world
that we are living in.
the resistance. stronger
than our own beliefs within.
dave, my neighbor.
i found him sitting next to the safe. with his gun. but in this case. the empty bottle of jack won.
why do we do this to ourselves. and why was he there for 4 days before anyone noticed?
it’s not all relative. put that
shit back into the book where
you found it. and look around.
it’s tolerance. that turned
the twin towers to dust.
is it really OK to form
a religion that way?
to create a god
around your pleasures?
the worst law is that of
the wayward views. by
defining what’s right for you.
it differs within a group. all these
ruling debates. get deeper. and buried.
rest in peace. against all stakes. living off
People magazine. and Newsweek.
where’s the rules? why are we ignoring
the universal truth?
easier said than done, i suppose.
someone has to relate to me.
someone without enemies.
please. we need to worry about the six-year old kids. who go with their parents to watch horror flicks.
and on the 6-o’clock news. stories of oral sex and booze. teenage marriage. these are the things i’m scared of.
executing men and
that’s the least of my worries.
it’s the feast on the weak. when sixteen-year-old
girls are cutting themselves. to hide the pain. with
their very own blood stream.
17 october 2007 brianprince