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TWENTY YEARS ON

Eighteen years
  twenty years on
    no ambitions
      expectation
        no fear

Day after day
    paying for the loss
of innocents
      of youth
    in high ways playing
      with nickel dreams
    today
on dead end roads
        Tragedy troupes

A Shakespearean play
  the twentieth century comedy
    with actors
      Jesters
    Ignorant to the camera
Lens on their sitcom
reciting Soliloquies

Eighteen years
    twenty years on
in a game drifting
like smoky circles
  ghost visions toying
    in and out of the camera's eye

Drift on now
  unknown invisible mute
    with your frayed script
      deaf to the canned applause
Your rags and props robbed by
    standard's norm
      society's prime time
Nielsen's rating

I've taken my heart out too many times
To be pinned to the sweaters of acting players
It's always returned tattered and worn
  to the bare soul

Can't want anymore
The feeling is useless
I'll only know loneliness and the
Day to minute void

Wax spinning sound turns myself
Into the surreal where play
Is the actual joy
  even though the roses are all dead
  and thorns skip in distorted reverberations

What is the real want here
To hold the flesh warm
    and love
To be held and loved

Look into these eyes and see
See the passion and feel
The joy waiting to be shared
Ease the confusion set by the
Common and careless actors bent on
Hate and hurt the only lessons they
Teach and know the meaningless
    mind fuck

Trapped in the songs every neighboring
Smith babbles with senseless direction
All roads lead to sleep but
    I am not ready for coldness night gives

I am not ready to lay with the red faded flowers
    brown and limp
I do not want to bandage the thorn pricks
    and forget these hallow feelings

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