Does one's life
One's
Way of thinking
One's
Way of Living
Looks Suspiciously like
Someone's else's
Copy and paste
Belief's

The Strongest Link  
In your Chains  
That binds You
To the spoon
  That Feeds You
Twisted Truths
Out right Lies
Is You

If the act
Of observation
Is an act
Of fact creation
The question is
How does one
Decouple
From the
Less then 1persent
Of What We See
Fakery
Could it be
That there Are Fake humans
Who continue To Believe
That there's Probable Cause
To Believe What they see
No matter the Fakery
On their favourite News feed

Sometimes
I get the feeling
That people are like
Candles
And we are the wick
Most burn slow
Some burn quick
And there are those
Who fall over
Never to rise again
As our Flames
Slowly dissipate
Into wilderness
Of the Winds That change

It's a funny old world
Where addicts
Cause destruction
In their community
And to those
Around them
To their own life's
Being called
The **** of the earth
And yet
We do the same
Addicted to things
Made by Slave's
Addicted to product's
Made by
The death and destruction
Of other life
Leaving nothing
But pollution
And yet
We call drug addicts
The **** of the earth
Strange

When one plays
With the insane
Side of life
Inviting
The Whispering
Into one's Home
When one joins
The orchestra
Of Pain
Listening
To the music
Within one's Mind
Dancing
To the Low Frequencies
Of short cuts Envy
Bitterness WHO to Blame
No matter WHO you are
You will
Be Left Behind
To reap
All that you have Sown

I sometimes
think Of my bed
As my grave
Rising
From the ash's
Every morning
Like a Phoenix
Continuously trying
To Fly Everyday