My memory
Used to be after eleven o'clock
No longer a loner
But with late night pool dives
And smoke and drinks
Shower conversations
Lingering emotions
Lost love
Fading voices
Be still
Complete

Turn the music up
My favorite song
Ethereal
Set in motion
Ice cold window
Coasting at seventy-five
Dropping low
In the right direction
Passing every exit
The murals written
The night time
Jumbled emotions perpetuated
In a handshake
Or a smile
Sigh
Yeah
Now that's the real America

It's torn
This flaunted melody
I stand admired
Though former thoughts shattered
This bliss cherished
To not drink death
But to cradle it
Idly
They speak of love
And three months of no answers
Lusting after something unnamed
So terrible
With a drunken heart
Held eternally by another

Breathless
You too could see
That this heart isn't your playground
Even though you promised
Are you safe?
Are you loved?
Your environment
Has taken care of you
And you speak
You speak only as you know how
Surrounded in the amphitheater
Amongst the friends and foes
I am not there
But I'm on my way
To your corroded memory
The gutted consciousness that is your mind
Night after night of questions
Left me unable to answer your repose
Tranquility
A source foreign and fragile to me
Never made voltaic by the moonlight

In the picture
Of a treacherous silence
I hear fate whisper its lonely plans
A lost deliverer
Of doomed hearts
The soundtrack
To a perfect purgatory
And their war torn eyes
They will
Cry out
Once more

Sit with me brother
Watch
As the world turns
And burns
Breaths filled with smoke
And the broken hope
Of machines
As our very last friend
Taste its pleasure
As I laugh at jokes
Inside this heart of solitude
Seeing the patterns
Of a morphine drip
Lead straight to your thoughts
Life's last request
To be held
Till your end

I sit here contemplating altruism.
I wonder why I get frustrated when there is no reciprocation.

Teach a man to fish, he will steal all your business.
Give a beggar coins, he can only buy a pint of Guinness.

I'm ******* tired of this ****. Somebody is living their dreams by taking mine away. I'd rather be beaten and hit than give up one more day.

Like trying to play guitar for others, just to be told "You ****".
I try to ignore the deterring phrase, "You'll never make a buck".

Teach a child love and tolerance, he will be abused and stepped on.
Give a loser a second chance, he will steal from you when you're gone.

Altruism doesn't exist. It's in my nature to share this exhibit.
Too bad it hurts me, feels like my belief is somehow complicit.

I hope I can see what I should give, and what I should prohibit.
Judge my charity, my gifts, my intentions, these words from my lips.

You call me an altruistic *******... But you're just a selfish *******.