Analysis of Ride



Sometimes we like people for what we see on the outside,
the periphery person, the person at the gate,
a gate which keeps us from the path to their inner being,
we fall for their mask,
we fall for an unrealistic expectation that we have,
we ignore our gut, and choose to believe that we can make it work,

however, like a pair of jeans that borderline fit us, and us them;
they look great on us, and we look great in them,
I do have that bulge and my legs are too long,
and maybe they are a bit tight and not quite the right shape for us,
(Deep breath in and out for bullshit effect)
but my ass looks great and look how visible my quads are,

however, with some wear and a few washing-machine cycles;
that tightness…is too tight,
it’s…suffocating,
the colour in your dance starts to fade,
things get complicated, things stop working like they used to,
that beautiful rhythm,
the joy, the happiness, what happened, how, why, when,

(Deep breath in and out for bullshit effect) and maybe we realise that we knew things would end this way all along,
we were just desperate to find something to fit, someone to fill that hole in our heart,
the desire, the need to express that natural instinct to care for a child, to be a mother,
to care for them, to do everything in your power to bring them joy, to bring them happiness,
to encourage and aid them to be the best person they can be,
maybe it was never about them and all about you,
perhaps that was just your worth and all that you could be,

was anything real or was it just fantasy,
was it love or was it just dependency,
that longing you feel, like an addiction,
longing for a reunion with that sweet embrace,
a sweet but deadly embrace from a thing that drags you down,
smothering you, locking away your true-self, putting you in chains,

life is not easy, life is so complicated, we are so complicated,
everything changes, time keeps moving, shit happens,
there’s no going back,
people aren’t who we think they were, people aren’t who they think they are,
am I who I think I am, I don’t even know who I am,

fuck that life, fuck people, fuck my metaphors,
all of us are fucked, we are all cursed, we are all human,

[PAUSE for x seconds]

are any of us real,
is anyone real or is it just me,
but am I real,
what is this,
what do I want,

do you want to be one of those people,
where life is easy,
where love is simple,
where living is living and not a constant struggle,

red pill or blue pill,
I choose the red pill,

I won’t be trapped beneath the deep sea of faecal matter that is “normality”,
Normal is not my reality,
My reality is suffering and pain,
Crashing and burning,
And getting up to do it again,

With some trial and error,
Maybe I will find heaven in this hell,
maybe I won’t,

to sleep, perchance to dream,
everything changes,
enjoy the ride


Scheme AXBXXX CCDEXF XXBXGXH DXIEJGJ JJKXXX XXXFX XK X LJLXX MJMM NN JJXBH IXX XXA
Poetic Form
Metre 01111011111011 0010010010101 01111101111010 11111 1111010010111 10110101101111111 101011111011011 11111011101 11111011111 0101101101101111 110011101 11111011100111 10111001100110 110111 1100 01011111 1110011101111 110010 010100110111 1100111010101111111111101 10110111011111110101 0010011011100101110111010 1111111001101111111100 1010011110110111 10111001101011 0111111011111 11011111100 11111110100 1101111010 101001011101 01110011011111 1001100111110101 11110111100111100 10101110110 11101 101011110101011111 111111111101111 11111011100 11111111111110 11110 110111 110111111 1111 111 1111 1111111110 11110 11110 1101100101010 11111 11011 111101011111011100 1011110 110110001 10010 010111101 1110010 1011110011 1011 110111 1010 0101
Closest metre Iambic hexameter
Characters 2,776
Words 533
Sentences 1
Stanzas 14
Stanza Lengths 6, 6, 7, 7, 6, 5, 2, 1, 5, 4, 2, 5, 3, 3
Lines Amount 62
Letters per line (avg) 35
Words per line (avg) 9
Letters per stanza (avg) 154
Words per stanza (avg) 38
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Submitted by PWRBTTM_0X45 on March 08, 2021

Modified on March 05, 2023

2:40 min read
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