City boy blues… (A poem by Jack)

I grow board with the world… I can’t figure out who they pray to anymore..I search for temples but see financial institutions more ubiquitous and grandiose than all their holy places..

Are we not judged by the fruit we bear…

At this very moment.. I’m watching make believe people.. Live a make believe life.. On an electrical box.. While I sit inside of a hollow box..

My shackles and chains are all but in the mind…

The only difference between my cell and the inmates is I voluntarily remain confined…

I’m not sure what’s worth much beyond the superficial.. I thirst for knowledge but find no means of attaining such… Just regurgitated arguments.. Passed down through time..recycled philosophies… 

Rtheroric without action…

They say we’re alive but I’m either numb to living or I’m two times dead… Because other than happiness I see no point.. Happiness is but complacency in the normality of stagnation..thus happiness becomes equally mute…

The blind aren’t leading the blind… The dead are leading the living.. And I’m dying right along with them.. All they know is death so they celebrate it in every facet of life…every nuance echoes non-living.. So precious is life that the sane have learned to lock it in… If just not to feel crazy…

Sometimes I can’t even see myself… All I see is the result of nothingness.. A compilation of misguided truths living in a dead world… Buried within the shell of a man.. 

So yeah… I tend to grow board with the world…

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