Tooth and Nail

 

In this space, this world we have created,

it is - for most – a very slippery slope

that seems – for many – to be frustrated

by this feeling – there is very little hope.

 

Upon the edges of this world – scars of mans

attempt – fingernails ripped from his hands.

Upon the edges of this world – craters from teeth

attempting – hanging by the skin of, from underneath

 

On this world – from man’s shadows chained –

all that fate, karma, choices made, nothings gained,

for in the end, what is it that will remain ?,

that when we look back, be considered sane.

 

My words, my thoughts dance to a different drummer,

this places me on the outer edges, making life a bummer.

Life seems to exist on the fringes of winter – seldom summer

sings its songs to my ears – seldom a joyful hummer

 

will I be, for you  see, I dance to a different drummer !

Doing so, I can find no band in which I might  play

because my tunes touch most, reach none – nothing stays

categorized, for me – no place to belong – stark are my days.

 

In this world – life for me – to be on my own.

Journeys, adventures  – life for me – all alone

as I fill my days – empty – in my little home

with little light reflecting from my shiny chrome.

 

And so, for those who care, or care to see ?,

there is little I say, I feel, that could be

a full representation, a complete picture of me.

Lost in the subconscious blackness – an obscured sea.

 

B. J. “A ” 2

March 3^rd 2006