Orphans and Lab Rats

A prisoner of war I write my last confession Confessing a distress signal Signaling the saints to come in But they went in, the tin cans you pass by every day stay empty The small gifts stay without someone to wrap them Without someone to guide them Without someone Because orphans can’t create society They only live it Orphans, abandoned by blood sucking statues Nothing but twittering tweets that pluck them right out of the circle and throw them into a box, categories, instead of humans, and they are left to suffocate while they ate the lies that the world fed them, saints tainted with the paint that ain’t from the body shop that manufactured heroes. And if they made an Iron Man, then man, that tin man isn’t going to last more than your lustful desires, admired by the world but hated by the creator, because we are all made by the creator, for Him. Life was never meant to be a game This isn’t a toy you can play with, a decoy, you can’t disguise yourself, you two sided skull Cracked like a coke bottle that has been smashed by bullies in the dimming summer days You let your soul slip down like liquid fire and the burn that last forever damaged your credit You allowed your account to overdraft and now you belong to the damned Damned if you ever thought you were a receipt, a possession, a slave to sin But your sinful transgressions made you property until someone purchased you Purchased by the master, the one who stops the disasters and thereafter, he saves you. He saved you with the name who when proclaimed yields the promise that life was never 42 Life is like a forest, you are told. Life is like a water stream, you are convinced that life is like symbols when the answer is in front of you Life is a tug of war Life is a war Life is. Life. But you were never manufactured to be a mistake, mistaken to think you were taken from the home that you thought you owned but the father tossed you aside and died and the mother suffocated in the late nights struggling to pay the bills and all you are left with is questions. Questioning your existence. But existence wasn’t meant to be a question. It was answered when you came into His thoughts. Existence never was a doubt, because certainty is His specialty. And when we get thrown into the cage to be played with, toyed with, used, and reused, again and again, lust, sin, fornication, lies, death, sorrow, darkness, everything building up and up to the point…when you become nothing but…a nothing…who was once something that could have been everything. Stop being a lab rat and start being a cool cat with a testimony. Testify to the lie that died inside…you. And I write my last confession. Toss it in. Sign it and shred it. My last confession for today. Because tomorrow’s finally here. And I refuse to miss it.