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.