Mind is Playing Tricks On Me

trapped within the very impulse of our loved beneath the perplexing ambush
we close the door of brevity with a slight adjustment of the hand when will we understand
caught betwen the world I know then onto the one I wish to go we become puzzled
my mind is playing tricks on me day after day with humble knee to bow the head to pray

out in the street where people meet we wear a smile yet know all the great while
when push comes to shove we tend to sweep things underneath the rug
in a time well spent in thought our chromosones run a bit wild
when I was a child i used to dream of kings and queens & magical places

yesterday is gone and I sit here all alone with a song in my heart to light the inner spark
we will humbly embark upon the distant road we are to tread within the walking dead
following aparts at the seams living in a land so very mean
Halloween

with witches in the air without a care in darkened portals of my mind
a flash in the pan when to understand that true simplistic art
Warhol with his soup cans promising everyone 15 minutes of fame
Elder bush still trying to grab some bush best he keep his Tiger in the woods

living in a field of dreams faces that scream eating my favorite ice cream
blind leaders of the blind following a no it all for president isn't it relevant
chase back the dreams froom your hair without the willingness to share
lines being drawn in the sand when to understand send the troops home
no time for them to roam...

mind is playing tricks on me as we take things casually masquerading with reality
with sought after humble brevity living in a land of make believe
yet we have something up our sleeve
crimes of passion embarking on the New York mile

bloodshed in the street of the town of New Haven
gone our the days of the forgotten Ben Laden or have we forgotten him
North Korea fat boy in a suit with funny hair
a cause to reflect lest we have met together for a journey of fear

working to hard can give you a heart attack like that old school rap
with Slick Rick & Mellie Mel boogy down with your socks like the late Scot Lerock
Fetty Wap is still on top still got time to call up for a cop
many years from now I'll still be on top

minds playing tricks on my as if its in the gutter is it any wonder with Stevie
everybody needs me like freshly squeezed orange juice drinking one hundred proof Vodka
these are the days that try mens souls as in the summer soldier and the sunset patriot
we can learn from our past mistakes not to make them again

Guess its best to hold our breath & count to the number ten again

This poem is about: 
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