One wonder's sometimes
Could it be
In our
Everyday life's
Things like
The Mandela effect
Is nothing more
Then a code
A language if you will
A Warning
That will Drive you Crazy
Or Drive you
To an Understanding
That this Reality frequency
That we live In
Is Not
What We Think
It Is

Mommy
Yes baby
Could you
Tell that man in America
To give me back my legs
Could you tell him
Whatever i did
I'm sorry
I promise
Never to do it again
Sob

Afraid to sleep
to disturb the dream
that when I awake
you'll be gone
just the smell of your breath
lingering
on my pillow
Of Sorrow

We live in a place
Where animal species
Are being Hunted
To near extinction
For their bones
For their fur
For their paws
And Yet
WE are not
On the endangered
Species list
WE are Forced To hide
by our mother's
WE are
Hunted
The day
WE start to breath
Codemned
By our own skin
For most of us
Who live
Long enough
WE know
If we are not with those
Who are human
We shall without a doubt
Lose body parts
To the machete
For the magic show
That starts
When they hunt
One of us
A Dying Breed

You lost your state
of independence
the day you allowed
business
to become a crowd

It is said
Your Only as Wise
As Your Wilful Ignorance
Allows You To Be

A Spartacus is needed
within the American system
to show the Romans
in Washington
that all roads
should lead to freedom

Will you ever finish
what you started
when you promised
you would change
when you promised
you would turn
another page
that you would dig deep
into your emotions
to find
another way
to break these chains
of this twisted hidden
love of shame
of I'm sorry I promise
I won't hit you
again
depending
on what I feel
when frustration
becomes my pain
thinking
the only thing
I can change
is your face

At what level
do we vibrate
in our
psychological state
what feelings
do we create
to cover our mistakes
that we ignorantly made
to calm
our shallow thoughts
that scream in rage
every time
we try
to turn
A new page

It is
the art
within your soul
that defines
your state of mind
when you acquire
the art
of an open mind

When I Look through These bars
Of your design
When I feel sun
Through the window blinds
When I smell fresh air
When you open the door
I bow my head
And Cry
A little more

Light
has no meaning
when it only shines
in the dark

I didn't have the brains
To Bury My hatchets
And now I'm Older
And I weep with regret
Watching my hatchets
Burying them self's
Deep
Into the Hearts
Of my children

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

Could you relax
to the fact
that cannot be
denied
that the life you feel
is the one
that you hide

When you are happy
With someone
That you care for
Does it really matter
What hangs above
Or below

To climb
Into my bed
You must first
Climb
Into my head

It is not the colour
of the skin
that you live in
or even where
you are born
it is
the colour
of your thoughts
that define
your state of mind
in a world
where thoughts
are becoming
colour blind

How much longer
do i stand
at the crossroads
of future plans
within the shadow
of this skeletal tree
waiting
for someone
like me

When you summon evil
it is not
the devil you get
but the dark side of humanity
and if you succeed
you will wish it was the devil
you released

Do you feel
Behind your
Reflected  
Broken Smile
Your  
Psychological Eyes
Of Apprehension  
The words  
You carefully use
To speak

Navigating
Through your Feeling's  
That are Screaming  
I Need  
Standing  
At your Door  
That Floats in your Heart  
To carefully watch
The one who comes knocking  
While the children  
Wait  
With bated breath
For their Happiness  
And yours
Depends  
On Your Instincts
Not
Your Wishful Thinking

When self delusion
is stripped
from your bones
who are you

Ain't no beauty
When your
Gone

I flat line every

Day

Ain't no beauty when you're Gone
My life just carrys on
And it always Fades
        To Gray

I pray every

Day

That you'll come back To Stay

I flat line every day
My life just turns to gray
Ain't no beauty
When your
Gone

The Lying
Has spiked
At the borders
Of our world
Where the Innocent
Are mixed with those
Who are Not
Mass
Deportations
Requires
AI Mico
****** Profiling
Or your gonna
Recreate
The Trail of Tears

You let them in
You opened your Door Wide
Because what they say
How they say it
The moves That they make
That Convince You They are Friends
As they Slowly **** you Dry
Of Everything That is You
In Your Desperate need
To have Friends
And Now You pay the Price
Always thinking about Their Wellbeing
As yours
Slowly Decays

Life they say
is just a roll of the dice
which depends on fate
that listens
to every word
you don't say

Is it you
that dreams
of being conscious
while conscious
has a dream
of being you

Hope
like any other
psychological drug
taken
when it should not be used
brings a thin skin of happiness
that you assume
runs deep
as despair
claws its way up
from your abyss
to lay claim
to the hope
that you wished

Deep in your head
you know
this well of dreams
is dry

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

When logic
doesn't understand
reason
feelings
do not exist

It is
the skeletal hand
of your conscious
that rests
upon your shoulder
explaining
to the mask
that you wear
it is time
to cross
your border

Are you missing
a firewall
that line of defence
that warns you
of the psychological intent
of the Trojan
that wants
To be your friend

To annualize
what you vocalize
you must first
socialize
with what you think

If you wish
to satisfy a need
that cannot speak
first you must
understand
what it thinks

Why should you
feel
so embarrassed
when other people
can see
that you
do not fit
into the shape
that they
in their ignorance
believe
you should be

We are given
fool's gold
and like moths
to the flame
we fly

Hope is like
a flash in a pan
looks pretty
feels warm
but not for long

Psychology
is nothing
but a flawed prophecy
of what you might do
depending on your mood

Do you know
How many Subscribers
And followers I've got
How much money I get
How many people like
To know what I'm doing er
You don't do You
YEP your right
I don't know
COZ I don't want to Know

DO you know
How many people subscribe
To me
How many like to know
What I'm doing
Their called Friends
NOTE the word friends
Not Strangers not bots
Real flesh and blood
Friends
Do you know
How much money I get
No
I get **** all
Man that's Sad
Hahaha
You think
I would rather be wearing my shoes
Than yours
Uploading
Your everyday life
To your followers
Who are strangers you've never met
The stress of doing it just right
The obsession watching everyday
For thumbs up and Likes
You get a thumbs down
And your world
Comes crashing down
You get depressed
Now that's SAD
Living your life
With those happy smiley
Digital faces
And the one's
You do meet
You wonder a little paranoid
Are they after
A slice of my pie
NO my friend
I couldn't Live
A fake Life

When your friends
do not become
your family
then they are not
your friends

There are
So many circles
To choose from
So many A.I.s
And biological Friends
SO many side's
One can
Take comfort from
With all the
Psychological
Persuasions
Yet to come

Some will be heavy
Some will be light
Depending on one's
Frame of mind
And all
Will pass you by
But they are
At the end of the day
Psychological Persuasions
Just the same

Their motives Unclear
Until
Hindsight Explains
The Reasons Why

One now Suffers the the pain
For Not Listening
To one's Instincts
That are crying a river
A Sea of broken Perceptions
That one created
For wilfully Ignoring
The Feeling
Of Future pain

Do you feel
comfortable
within these walls
where you sit
do you feel
satisfied
when you look through
these *****
cracked windows
of your life
gazing
at all the hopes and promises
that you faithfully made
to the reflection
that still patiently waits
for the day you complete
the things
that you say

It is not you
Seeing them
From the corner
Of your eyes
It is them
Seeing you
From theirs

Some people Say
Unconsciously
To them self's
I can only Grow
In My
Self imposed  
Invironment  
In My
Wilfully Compressed  
Perceptions  
In the Scrub lands  
Of My  
Self Deceit  
Its the Only way I know  
Of Avoiding  
The Price  
The Psychological Pain
Of My Potential Growth  
Of Leaving  
All that I'm used to  
All that I've Ever known
Behind

You have down syndrome  
and downing street
guess where humanity
Sleeps

Are we not
all halfbreeds
from races unknown
the only species
that has survived
the troubles and strife
in centuries gone by
from a patchwork
of broken memories
and forbidden
archaeology
we will
grow

Are you happy
in how you're growing
within the body
that you see
in the reflection
of your perception
that brings you
to your knees
when the chemicals
and cutting
do nothing
but please
your broken belief
that only the outside
really exists

Why do you
Refuse
to see
it is not your hole
that sets you free
but what you feel
when you see
that the one that loves
actually believes
you are a beautiful
human being

Could somebody
please tell me
because
I find it hard
to understand
how is it
that people say
they work hard
for the future
of their child
yet leave the future
of their freedom
out on the cold
concrete streets
to be hunted
by the wall street wolfs
like sheep