Getting By

How fast life turns around,
If e'en just in your mind,
One moment you hold hope for anything,
Next, there's nothing to find,

Only the surety that you've no talent,
Nor appeal to others,
The whole world shareing an understanding,
Passed down by all except by your father,

That prescribes a way to speak hid from you,
Leaving you odious,
While last week you were on top of the world,
The future glorious,

But here's the trick,
It requires faith of sorts,
That everyone else has the same feeling,
With no way of knowing the truth, of course.

Dealing With Bad Luck

There's such thing as bad luck,
Believe me, I've lived it,
Even if each thing can be traced back to,
You not believing it,

You might have done something differently,
That could have improved things,
A little extra attention to risks,
You could have mitigated derailings,

But how much time does one have to commit,
Before it's not worth it?
Use the time saved digging for what you love,
If you've not unearthed it.

Your luck will change,
Like I am sure will mine,
Even if it's because I ignore it,
Let's face it, luck is only in your mind.

Our Disconnect

Sometimes you are just sad,
With no mater'il change,
Which means you've less than you did yesterday.
Doesn't that sound just strange?

Anything else in nature would be glad,
To maintain its function,
Or gain the equivalent of what's gone,
Sounds like a law once proposed by Newton,

But we've made changes to reality,
Because of Kant, not Hume,
The latter followed the laws of Nature,
Despite now being ruined,

Whose fault is that?
I am too tired to guess,
Depression will bring down any human,
No matter how much they have in their chest.

Writer's Block

'fyou look up writer's block,
What do you think you'll find?
Think having written's a prerequisite,
Or's everyone in line?

Without knowing that they have it in them,
To express all they are,
Without the filter of their existence,
The writer's most feared and heaviest bar,

It is only with the luck of nature,
That anybody writes,
The few who woke up on the other side,
That's in ev'ryone's sights,

Just out of reach,
But they are better off,
For some the frustration of missing out's,
Preferrable to doing what they love.

The Writing's Over

Sometimes I try writing,
A song on the guitar,
The tune is right, but the lyrics are wrong,
And oh so very far,

Unlike here where words never fail to come,
Though, would you like these sung?
Truth be told a song's what this form's based on,
Maybe one day you all will sing along,

Not that this is what one wishes to hear,
Let's face it, no feelings,
Are touched as you read what I'm telling you,
This is just for healing.

That's not the word,
See? Now this is all wrong,
I want to tie something up with a bow,
I think I'll try to write another song.

Working Through Sadness

What makes you unhappy,
Can also make you strong,
Can also leave you alone in your bed,
Or lead you into song,

You might think that the reason is money,
Or hormone imbalance,
Intuition that you're on the wrong path,
Or prediction from an innate sixth sense,

You might face it like it's nothing at all,
The same as happiness,
Or let it derail anything that's good,
Because life is a mess,

It's up to you,
Even if it is not,
Nor is there a right way to deal with it,
All that is learned is what the past has taught.

The End Is Nigh

My hip is hurting now,
Because I'm an old man,
There's acute pains I'd never have though to,
Become a distraction,

To the point that getting into the car,
I have to lift up my leg,
Not by telling it to, as was my wont,
But moving it with my hands for the ache,

A situation should I've seen in you,
I'd say the end is nigh,
For why else would someone's body fail them?
I've now become that guy!

I count the days,
Not jnowing what is left,
Like children hoarding halloween candy
As if their wealth's measured by what they've kept.

My Conspiracy Theory

What more is there to say,
To those wanting to know,
What's really happening behind the scenes,
Of what politics shows?

There is no such thing as conspiracy.
If you're looking for truth,
Then you must believe ev'rything you read,
Then assume what you've not read is true, too,

For we are talking about people here,
Have you ever known one?
You best bet there's nothing that's not been done,
Under this godless sun,

For wouldn't you,
If given half the chance?
We all know it's easy to tell yourself,
That others exist just in appearance.