For Something Greater

For Something Greater
(Birthday Poem)

“You’re over analyzing.” She firmly said…
Keeping company of a long ago friend
A debate with Life. Again, I’m arguing a means to end…
But why argue, language is poorly articulated intent.
That familiar feeling of “I can’t do you anymore.”
Counting harm, peace is no charm, when you can’t feel it within,
But wouldn’t quitting be a cowards sin?
Heroes pay for done and did.
Still, it’s sweet and relentless
Life, you’re harsh when remembered
No. it’s not to you, but family for whom my heart is beating.
Wary travelers proudly breathing, grow restless
A proclamation by the stubborn and relentless;
“There’s got to be more to all this than this mess!”
Yet, it can be hard for those wearing a heart and soul
Life, overcast by a net of shadows, you feel cold
Here it’s easy to get tangled and old
But holding a torch between lost and loosing control
A whiter shade of blue, strange sanity is always the uncertain hue
Love isn’t helpless, when I see them it’s ridiculous to go.
Life unselfish, what do we live for other than selfless love?
It’s more than true, Life, it’s more than you!
So why can’t you be more caring?
Your children cry and hurt.
Make believe vengeance by someone dumb and daring,
Where is a god that I can point my finger at and curse?
Give me something to blame for all that festers and burns
A promise of after death revenge is a sweet feeling returned
“If god exists I’ll take it out on him, and you know it’s well earned!”
Under impressions that there are not enough cheeks to turn, or flags to burn
But I’m a fool to wave a fist at another fool that hides
In heaven’s castles or in those on Earth
When I know what empowers both,
And, I know, it’s a senseless shame,
To point fingers at all but more of the same
When we all act the similar way in an identical play.
This stage is set with a question mark at the end
Life why can’t you be less selfish?
Why are good people poor and needy,
And the rich so very greedy?
Why are a few in control, and made in the image of the god to whom butchers pray?
A man who likes it submissive and his way.
But life, growing pains make me feel I can’t handle another lesson,
And trying to understand you, I draw too many blanks.
It’s a lacking expression,
Where I recede into sublime regression.
Feeling dead, but before I feel any less true,
There’s one thing that should be said;
My heart beats for something greater than you.

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