And even if you were God
There would be nothing you could do,
Free will, and out of your hands.
Just leave me my sanity
And you can take the car,
My integrity, perchance.
I have this theory that
The whole world feels alone
Together,
And our lost and lonesome only blinds us
From the unity we could feel
In feeling alone
Together.
And if you were God,
What would you do?
The same thing he�s been doing
For an eon and a day:
Nothing.
I have a quaint disease
Where just before the words
Can reach my fingertips,
My brain cells quickly die.
Walt Whitman�s favorable quotes wither,
Kipling, where have you gone?
And when the world could be so thankful
For the beauty of ink-on-paper
There isn�t a single person left
To write it down.
I�m sorry to deny you your apocalypse, but
It�s just one of those things you�ve been silly
To wait for
For so long.
I promise you,
When your sexual frustration is tired of being let out
Through violent tendencies
And desperate pettings in the darkest corners
Of night-clubs playing punk-rock bands,
There will still be front-row seats waiting
For you,
For Armageddon.
It�s not that I fancy myself a sort of poet
A sort of artist, at all.
It�s not that I would don the helmet of our soldiers
Like the burdens of our people
And make it all get better.
No.
More so,
I ask you,
Would you do the same
If those punk-rock night-clubs
Never existed?
Are you battling for our people by-proxy?
Are you making the next generations soldiers?
What is God fighting for,
Besides good-bye?
What I�m trying to say is,
The next time that
You�ve gotten yourself stuck against the dirty,
Talking walls,
Remember that the people
Are always welcome
To play at God
And do what he�s been doing
For an eon and a day:
Nothing.