Motivation

sometimes, to me, the world just seems

as cruelty does persue us,

intent on crushing fragile dreams

that cant escape by any means

nor silence raging, broken screams

for those who would subdue us

and as i grow, as i age

as all folks do, of course

i retain almost all the rage

my mind is a dysfunction cage

retaining all thats bad and strange

into one large negative force

so what would i do with this fortune?

what could i do with any portion?

more fuel for the fire i say.

And indeed it is fuel,

for it holds connotation

and there isnt a rule

toward derriving motivation

and indeed it burns,

and indeed it burns well

keeps you moving in turn

through your heaven or hell

though the smoke's a new color

be it blue, black, green, red

it only affects others

outside of your head

if they ask you whats wrong,

and you know they just may

just continue along

and on with your day

and now you're alone

so you do not seem rude

to others who'd not care

for your polluted mood

think of mistakes that you've made

or large debts still unpaid

think of pain you've endured

or dumb people you've lured

think of anguish and doom

think of pain that does loom

girls that i've lied to out of lust

men that i've lied to, betraying their trust

people i've swindled out of pure greed

and people i've mocked for not sharing my creed

all that i've charished now gone, now dead

all i rejected or not let let into my head

myriad problems that i had only fed

and the tedious ones that i hadonly fled

while most people retain such things for admonishment

i want to make more room for love and astonishment

all feelings that are bad, include hate and sorrow

i use as a tool for an ideal tommorow

Copyright ©2003 Ross Pollack Wilkins III