If this poem finds you...
You must have been looking...
Trying on different points of view.
In a store on Queen Street.
Where everything's over priced...
And the division of people is measured in feet.
Price tags mark us...as Human Beings.
As spray paint mark buildings as....Templates.
Looking for reason, but finding nightmares.
Staring at the wall, wondering how it got there.
Building from the ground up...
Just to knock it all down.
You blind yourself, to someone else...
They wont surprise you, they'll just blind-side you.
If thats not a negative...
It must be a postive.
Black and White.
With no acceptions...
What a cruel world we live in?
When the different who seek the same treatment...
Get denied at a door, thats already unsure...
How they're opening and closing for anyone.
Life's full of gears, and too many rotations...
If you're smart, you'll get used to the motions.
Mixing Potions...
Of seventy proof....
Erasing your problems...
And murdering your youth.
I feel no envy...
Nor do I feel shame.
I just feel like I'm winning this game.
In the End...It will all matter...
Whatever the great big wind...
That causes the disaster.
Take this as inspiration...
Let it be known you have no exasperation...
You are just living in a sad rotation.
Change it all, as your cards fall.
It's not a solemn affrair, it's just what needs to be done.
It all seems impotent...
When you're the last one to know it...
You're in a flimsy house of cards.
Flimsy House Of Cards.
She's not what you expected.
Just Accept it.
Move on, with no real objective.
Flimsy House of Cards.
Flimsy House of Cards.
In the end...who will pick up...
The Flimsy House Of Cards?
Even if it's damned to fall?
