The Ugliest Face
Emotions, like pilot lights, create flames
these piled lights collect and waste energy
but no fire spreads worse than fear.
The smog from this pile yields more year after year.
We are blind, but that's not new.
We think there is more than we can do.
But we are just what we make, who we love, and what we take.
But the fakes, so-called greats, they spew hate laced fate.
These days fame is validation but a spectacle is no need for celebration.
Its more invasive than expansive, shrinking thoughts, not expanding them.
And even I, with my thoughts, think I'm in charge of what I've got.
But all my perceptions are fallacies like a forest of sprouting and falling trees.
I can't see this game from a bird's eye, just as the birds are never grounded.
and even though I smell the dirt, I'm not sure where I'm found.
I'm not sure of my place, or how much is my space.
And so far all I can make
is a face.
