LISTEN
mad hippie poet 1974 (new jersey)
They say I talk too much about things they are afraid to think or speak of. There is too much hate in their heart where once there was love, and the skies above are now burning with the anger that the gods are feeling as their story starts to reveal its face in heaven, which is no longer considered a resting place.
The living looks at me, some and some, not knowing I speak to the dead. No, I'm not crazy in the head. It would be best to listen for those signs within their words.
I lived many lives before knocking on every abandoned door, looking for answers and reasonings, wondering how I know the people and things I know and how my life seemed like one big picture show throughout centuries.
I can not keep silent anymore. I can not escape from what I was called down here, for I can no longer wear masks as a disguise. You need to hear my voice and look into my eyes when I speak the words that now need to be heard.
It is getting so loud that I must shout it out, but there is no need to scream if you listen. Is life a reality or just another twisted dream, having you believe in everyone and everything as long as it is not yourself? They say don't judge, don't hold a grudge. Well, I say listen to the masses and not the book on the shelf, for my voice will be the push and not the pull of the straw that broke the camel's back.
I am taking my power back. I have every right to be mad, but you will not control me by my anger, and you can not control me by hatred, for you are no longer even a thought in my mind. Listen, the machine is living on borrowed time, and like always, all the things we believe in will help us rise again, for today will never end until the people win
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"LISTEN" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 7 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/167642/listen>.
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