It’s not everyday

                       blood and rain seep through the cracks in the barricades of our brains

as the heart pumps up blood

and rain pours down pain.

                                       The pressure is rising,

                                       building up a pounding in my head,

                                       screaming at my soul to wake up;

                                       wake up from this stupid game.

                 It’s not a game.

                    There’s more;

         there’s always more.

                                       It’s deeper

                        farther inside

           than detail can entail.

                                                       It’s closer,

                                                           closer,

  much closer to the reality of morality being taken into the wrong hands and questioned by people who just don’t understand what its like to have brothers...

brothers from different mothers

because in life-

in who we are-

we are all people.

We are all brothers.

We are supposed to have each others backs.

                                                                    Why else was society built this way?

                   We are made together in humanity,

                                                                                                                             yet we lie;

                                                                                                                                       we cheat;

                                                                                                                                           we steal.

                                                                    Why steal when we have what we need?

                   What is pride other than boastful greed

                   conjuring up the illusion of being better than one can see

                   through the mirror of hopes and dreams?

 

For theft is a felony,

            not only a felony, but also a sin far greater than any other-

to take away a mother who then gave birth to my brother,

yet stolen from my mind and replaced with false memories...

 

                                                                          ...memories that could have changed the tide,

                                                                                             that could have turned back time,

                                                                                                    could have right the wrongs.

                                                                                      We could be singing different songs,

                                                                                                                                                  but our voices are broken.

                                                                                                                       

                                                                      We find we don’t belong

                   because the people around just didn’t understand what it was like

                                                                                                                           to steal from another man.

 

They didn’t feel the pressure.

They didn’t feel the pain,

                              the agony,

                                     the devastation

of losing half their brain

to what was once true now being a lie-

                                                           lies with guilt

                                                                            wrapped around tightly in a bow

                                                                                           glistening in moonlight when emotions truly show.

                                                                      

                                                                      Is that what we want in society?

To feel constant antagonizing blows

out of guilt-

out of remorse

                     for the sins we have committed due to the wrath of our own selfishness eating at the reputation we thought we had?

 

No.

  That isn’t how it goes.

            This is just a game;

                              a game we feel we need to play.

“Wake up.”

            I open my eyes.

                                    It’s pouring outside;

 

that only flusters my pain.

 

There’s more;

always more.

           It’s not just a game.

                                                                      My reality-

                                                                      my life-

                                                                      a lie a vain.

 

How is there redemption for a man with such defeat?

 

My only chance is to wake up.

 

                   This is a game that can be beat

                                                                with desire and compassion

                                                                                                             to balance the scales;

                                                                                                                                               for it will always be deeper

than detail can entail.