Always be mine…

It’s the same old shit over and over again,
Like the ice lolly in the fridge,
Every bridge,
I make,
Seems to crumble,
Even the ones made to share,
Laid before me.
Why is it that no one seems to want me,
We cannot fault a dependant baby,
Nor let go of a seemingly dependant child,
Teenager,
Young adult,
I may be extra needy now,
Whether it be that I am done with the subconscious sherades,
Or now unable to keep up with the fascade,
Those developmental needs not met,
I try to forget,
But they are cemented in my memory,
And taint what lies ahead of me.
Being illegitimate,
A bastard,
I have never got over that,
But I was lucky enough to have you.
Sometimes now it doesn’t feel that way,
I don’t feel I should have to say,
You should know anyway!
I am not asking for the world,
Nor all of your heart,
But just a space in it would be a good start,
It was always two,
Society suggests it should be three,
But we were a pair,
Growing up together,
Just you and me.
Then there was three,
But your chosen one never liked me,
Nine years passed,
And still no improvement,
Disappeared over night,
Not even a goodbye,
He left.
Then restored,
It was just you and I once again.
That other figure,
The donor,
He was always looming,
Mostly by fantasy,
He was welcome,
But chose to barely see me.
Time passed,
I left the nest,
You watched me sore,
Independence all around,
Famous firsts,
Like living alone,
We experienced separately,
But in synchronicity.
I was strong back then,
Defiant,
Independent,
But I lost those qualities somewhere along the way.
I am more needy now,
Some might say.
Delighted that you found your love,
Your soul mate descended from above,
And this one even took me under his wing,
Accepted me from the beginning.
Two became three once more,
Three became four,
A little one more,
That we all love,
Cherish,
And adore.
Sprinkled with extended family,
You now have your 2.4,
Being an adult,
I am so happy for you,
But being ill,
I need you still.
I feel cast to the side somewhat,
Sometimes remembered,
Sometimes not,
In fact often forgot.
I know that now you must devide your love and time,
I just don’t want you to forget that I need you,
And I am still here,
Patiently waiting,
Standing in line,
Because I will always be your daughter,
And Mother,
You will always be mine.

Roundabout…

Inspired by the TV show, West World…

See the record spinning?
Neither head nor tail,
Where’s the end or the beginning?
Round and around,
Full circle on demand,
Yet seemingly free,
Deceit!
Tis all engineered,
Placed by God,
Or something supernatural,
A force beyond our understanding,
It’s all engineered,
Designed,
Rigged,
Already chosen,
A hidden force manipulates,
What we perceive to be free Will.
Play,
Stop,
Skip,
Handle with care,
Delicately,
Avoiding wear and tear,
Scratch that,
And the sound will slack,
Skipping,
Trying to take it back.
It loops,
Circling like a hoola hoop,
Rhythm fast,
Rhythm slow,
Rhythm go,
Go,
Go,
Over and Over,
Because the master made it so.
A mirage of freedom,
In reality,
A soul trapped against its Will,
Destined only for fatality,
Things aren’t what they appear to be,
Russian roulette,
A fascade of tranquillity,
When really brutality,
A journey that you will endlessly repeat,
Yet we still forget,
The purpose as to why,
We do not know yet,
Bewitched,
Trickery,
We learn with regret,
And then we try to learn some more,
Starved with zero power,
I am mentally impaired,
But a sensitive suffragette,
Slightly aware that things are not right,
Stuck in an endless maze,
I hope for something more,
That there is some reason behind this treason,
But for now,
We lack control,
Lost in a game that we did not sign up for,
Chained to the tightest strings,
We are but puppets,
Stuck in a wretched game,
That we are forced to Play,
On this tainted roundabout,
In shades of grey.

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All The Worlds A Stage; Like The Great Man Said…

All the world’s a stage,
And we are merely players,
Shakespeare told us the secret,
But missed out the complex layers.

You see,
As this earth is constantly spinning,
Simultaneously,
So is the wheel of Fortune,
And like lottery balls,
We are catapulted into the game,
The game of life.

Fate plays it’s hand,
Where we are born,
How we are born,
When we are born,
Pot luck,
Chance determines our paths.
Manipulates our character.

Must we accept what lye’s ahead,
Or maybe choose,
Pick what genuinely suits us?

Change,
Upgrade,
Control our own destiny?

Quit all together,
And terminate whatever!

Destined For Catastrophy

They say that in life,
When we are born,
We are all on a certain path,
But what they don’t tell you,
Is that one decision,
One simple decision,
Can change and alter that path,
In some cases for eternity,
In others,
You may get lost for a little while,
As each path leads to another,
And another,
But the lucky ones,
They finally get back on track,
And fulfil their born destiny,
The luckier ones hurtle in their born direction,
From birth until their end,
But some of us get so lost,
And bewildered in the darkness,
That we loose a sense of self,
And without knowing ones self,
How can one know their own destiny?
I feel that I fall into the later category,
I feel like I am drifting out into the endless and bottomless sea,
And before I took sail,
I had lost every part of me,
Not misplaced,
But lost forever more,
And so I go on,
And on,
And on,
Drifting,
And drifting,
Not sure of my future.
I fear that I may have forsworn my born destiny,
But somehow know that it will be a lonely and bitter end for me,
Whoever, “Me” may be!
I dream and fantasise that one day,
Someone will come along and save me,
But as time passes,
Second’s,
Minute’s,
Hour’s,
Day’s,
Week’s,
Month’s,
Year’s,
That notion seems more and more improbable,
I just cling to it for comfort.
I don’t know what I was born to be,
What life could or should have had in store for me,
But I feel in my bones what will be,
What looms above me,
And it is not pleasant,
Welcomed,
Nor warranted.
It is disaster and catastrophe!