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Gurgling loathe ripples from the core

Images push forth of standing on the shore

But strength surges without control

This Christmas; there may be coal

Electrical pulses smash in the ear

Disregard for what’s ‘right’ and what’s ‘wrong’

'Cos numerous faults have been held in too long

Rapid movement feels no regret

Of course they deserve what they are going to get

The mind’s eye views faults that are grim

Who is the real victim?

Rational thoughts have completely faded

The temperament is anything but jaded

In 12 minute’s time; the splatter becomes a smudge

The consideration emerges; you might have misjudged

As the clock ticks on, there’s not a trace of irate

How could there have ever been such hate?

On and on the clock clicks

As future episodes build on words, stones, and sticks

Can we shift our focus

Away from the hocus-pocus

That consumes our every day life?

See, there’s this thing on my mind

Suspended in time

"Stop thinking your way to the future"

It’s a paradoxical thought

Which many times I have fought

But this notion is a plague

And it only increases with age.

Yes, live in the now!

¬†Only…I don’t know how

It’s a jigsaw I hope I can conquer

And in the meantime, I’ll think and I’ll ponder

About the state of mind that I must un-wonder.

In a lack of passion

One must ration

Their energies towards their hobbies

If we could do it again

We could always pretend

That on love, we didn’t depend

Yet in the back of my head

I know in the end

Just love does not make one happy

Optimism is internal

But my mind’s an inferno

Can happiness live in me?

Instead we will worry

Life flees in a hurry

And we will be left with no purpose.

But my mind still argues back and forth

Surely these notions have no worth

Why be sad when you can be happy?

Still, I can’t shake this underlying feeling

That life has no meaning

And over our emotions, we have no control

I need a theme

I need inspiration

Yet my frame of mind is not conductive to this business

Instead, I sulk all day; trapped in my head

Will there ever be an escape from this dread?

24/7; it courses through my veins

Intermixed with periods that are sane

This is when I feel like my true self

And occurs when anxiety fatigue brings me to health

Calm penetrates like a fresh breath of air

Contentment rejuvenates my inner lair

Yet as suddenly as a breeze

My optimism flees

And I’m tossed into confusion once again

Has my happiness really ever been?

I wish I could explain

The nature of my inner pain

But somehow my words always fail me

There must be a simple solution

But with all this biased confusion

I am blind to what others may see

Wake up like you mean it

Shed those tears before you feel it

Anticipate the mess, the ugly—-greet it

Trust the mind and how you feed it

Just wipe away the negative feelings

"How could happiness be a choice?

Can you control the sob in your voice?”

It doesn’t matter the cause

Boost your mood with a bit of self-applause

Create the mindset for which you’ve been reaching

Treat yourself and others with that mind you’re breaching

Embrace the cliche

Admit your faults with a little touche

Do this, and you’ll never have dismay

Instead your life can be filled with “hooray!”

It’s one of those days

Where all you do is contemplate

Why we’re here and what is our fate

Are they really your soul mate?

Crate; a carton full of eggs

They crack and sizzle as the dog begs

But he doesn’t know what’s playing in your head

An array of orchestrated frets

Dismay about recent events

Which you struggle to comprehend.

But in the end; a conclusion starts to show its face

It emerges at a sluggish pace.

Finally, you clear the haze

You realize that it’s just a phase

'Cos no matter how hard you wonder

Your heart will still feel the thunder

And shortly you realize

That all this really is, is life

It curses the young and anxious

It means fame for the artists and courageous

It remains mysterious to the hopeful and religious

Yet one truth remains..

To all, this curse is ubiquitous

'Bing, Bing, Bock'!

While the clock goes ‘tick tock’

Tired ears ignore

As the monotonous machines cantor

Repetitive rhythms

Personified by sickness

Signifying that death is ubiquitous

Black boiled leather fierce with determination

The frame it contains laced with apprehension

Timid ears prick in sync with heavy words

But those fears can be sent away with the birds

A life; anything but mundane

As grimacing and tempting as lemon meringue

This: the true individual

Encompassing all aspects apparent and residual