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Along For The Ride

This artist guy

That I’ve let loose

He’s really digging some holes

In my life


Really

Burning some bridges


He’s gone a little overboard at times

In the righteous name

Of creating


A Monster

Of my own creation


I am

A shitty version of

Dr. Victor Frankenstien


I always did love that book


Ayn Rand

And

Mary Shelly


The only lady writer’s I’ve read


And I’ve become what they warned against


(Don’t worry dear readers

I’ll read some more lady authors

I’ve heard there was an lady existentialist

That’s worth reading

But I forget

Her

Name…


Simone De something…)


Good lord!


What is this dribble??

What is this poetry??

I don’t know

And I don’t really care


The typing of a man who’s let loose

A side he never knew was there


I’ve benched the judge

And brought new players to the game

The artist

The explorer

The poet

The musician

The fighter

I’ve fused them

And created

A monster

Who just goes on and on

About nothing


He just says whatever he wants

Whenever he wants to

And anyone can read it

At anytime


And I don’t really feel

Like stopping him…


What a life.


What a

Trainwreck

This is going

To

Turn out

To be



It is

Kind of

Fun though


But,


Do not come near the artist

Unless

You want to be turned into a story

That no one will know


Was real

Or

Fiction


Or

A fusion of the two


Except for

Me and you


What a life.


What a

Trainwreck

This is going

To be.


And I’m just

Along for the ride.


-C.H.

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