Self-Discovery (to be cont.)

Oh, perhaps that’s it. I have an issue, you see. It’s pretty broad, but I’ll go ahead and call it ‘self-discovery.’ I look at all different peoples bending their knees giving praise and endless faith to their respective deities I watch dedicated lovers and porcelain frail believers fall to pieces under reality’s hard demeanors There are the careless and the careful and the fearless and the fearful and those who—turn their heads, or whimper because they’re so easily startled The naive and the pathetic and the pained proud and the scoffing wise. The overdosed and the underdressed or the plastic faces and the messed up aces the kind-hearted youth and the polluted uncouth, I’m so— where does everyone come from? who deserves happiness? tell me, who deserves pain? what is decision making, and does it all end with the coffin we lay in? I cry for the child across the street I’ve never met before, and I weep for that novella’s character knockin’ on heaven’s door. What is a sin, and does it really matter under so-called Hellfire’s screeching dins? I’m confused and I’m curious most of the time. Pretending that I’m a poet, a whiz at rhyme. And to those who I’ve touched, will I ever touch again? another life, another story, some other universal happening. You see, I don’t see the me in myself I see a soul in a vehicle, driving my way out So let’s say there’s flash dancing and a pansy charade bidding me farewell, pops of fizz and champagne. Hey, Death. Let’s get drunk together.