The Other Side

Why does the perceived strength of a man lie outside his vulnerability?
He has shamed, chained and locked his left arm as he gives the key to society
He quietly mutters as he wonders why he struggles to take, shape and make his world without anxiety
He left his right arm to face the whole problem at half strength
If only he could reach out for help, but it sits at both arm’s length
 
Suppressing the inner oppression of the convoluted ego
Fuels the corruption of the vehicle that holds his unsound mind
In the absence of time, he is greeted with introspection
And with loud deliberations, soft reiterations utter that the only enemy is none other than inner me
Lashing out with distraught seeping through the invisible mask cracking screams break the scene with “why have you offend me?!” in the opening act
Double coating the red paint of pain on the falsely accused with the excuse of perceived truth
We curl up lips and take tips as we embody the damaged kids of our inner youth
We act out in take #2 wearing the tiny shoes through explicit views
Unleashing buried characters that tirelessly seek out selfish tendencies
Eyes become bloodshot from seeing red,
and long-lost eyelids fold to meet each other as I dream of being read instead of being heard
How can we read between the lines if we are all blind and unaware of our own sleep?
Blinded views cover the human crew as we digest the information we’re being fed as free food
Drowning in the depths of our own troubled waters
We fire off a list of things that would be at stake.
We’d burn up if we were to “open up” and relate!

Passing on this onion of frustration to our lovers and daughters regurgitated on their dinner plates
What kind of father can’t lead himself?
What kind of brother doesn’t need to excel?
What kind of person can’t retrieve them self?
The kind that can feel but can’t remember who and what they truly are
Gassed up thinking nobody can match up though they are a dim light from a dying shooting star
I just wish you could hear your soul’s cry echo across the infinite night sky
Begging your overprotective ego to surrender its thoughts with its hands up as you man up

The concrete gray walls of your inner dams hold all your generational curses that can be placed in individual hearses if you’re willing to let go
Where is the strength that lies in holding back?
Be free, be full, be open.
Stop holding on to chains that already are broken.
It’s a true disservice to your pleading and bleeding heart
Whose sole purpose underneath the layers of ruby red curtains is to provide a warm beating to your succeeding art
 
It’s like being stuck in between the breading of a bagel-like life
Where the centre isn’t filled but the surrounding perimeters taste just right
Momentarily fulfilling the will of the superficial fills of one’s appetite
Till the cravings persuade you for another shameful slice as you bite at that unsound life

Splurging out in nefarious actions driven by pain from the passenger’s seat
With frequent stops to the bleeding feet of innocent hitchhikers
Optimistically experiencing their first and last drive-by with their thumbs up

Now here lies the road that goes nowhere with the pleasure of having pain as the esteemed guest
As together they journey to seek out their missing peace in the puzzle of completeness