Dennis Watson

The Gift, by Dennis J. Watson

Sometimes I wanna die… Give up power, but ask why… Why do I harbor these feelings? I’ve come to learn things happen for a reason & God won’t just shield me, there’s a bigger picture… Even though I’m one of the last with enough respect for my surroundings to say ma’am & mister… Please & Thank you… My lungs still remain cool through all the quicksand that I sank through… Because even when it seems like a wade pool, it could still be deep water… I’d rather go of natural causes instead of being in line for the slaughter… I taught myself so many things… Pain makes us human beings, so deep in the depths of the torture chamber I will still sing, but it doesn’t mean it changes the situation… Life’s needs transform to greed & it touches tastes buds… It becomes an elmer fudd that shoots duds at the shotgun holding rabbit… Plus the shock of having habits is the rehab shortly after all that we have, fall into the law of entropy… Please capture these words that live forever, at some point there is an end for me… The devil’s got it in for me, so he’s never looking out for me… Or is he really just a she with a plan that ends sourly… As my life reduces by the hourly there’s a lot of cowardly things I encounter that have probably been left out… As I run for the sun I in turn search for the best route… I just don’t want to end up as like a stripper pole dancer, chest out, but assed out… No disrespect of how you make your dollars… I was always in hot water & survived by drinking lava… My father, has to be the strongest besides myself to ride inside this skin suit… If the sky is the limit I try to reach beyond that to plant my size 12’s on the moon… Until then I’m condemned within this oxygen cocoon looming over things I apparently can’t change… Everyone is plain & slow, but I remain quick enough to catch rain still in the same droplet form… Feeling the same rocks & thorns that have my socks all torn through my shoes… Cut & bruised, left to die, unloved & abused, have the rules changes, oh I forgot, there are none… We fight a war that can’t be won, so I keep the heart of a shogun… No weapon formed against me shall prosper… Very seldomly I’ve lost words or have been served like I was facing Serena… Even I can admit wrong doing or failure… Compelled to make sure I observe everything less than superb I’m slightly disturbed by my surroundings… My inner silence it loudly screams like a crowd of wolves howling, proudly I’ve become the strongest cub… Starved, in harshest of freezing winds all I search for is warmth & love… Some will never get it… The result of the reversed experience is only equal to anarchy from the livid, appearances they can be deceiving… On the receiving end of the reality binge there’s nothing my eyes are believing… Please, just let me pass away naturally… My skin tone has awarded hatred shown sometimes by my own, so shade is thrown unhappily… I’ve grown to adapt to the fact that I’ve been attacked by sirens & badges that hassle me, so I just breathe deeper… Why do I run & hide from the seeker, because he tries to infect & destroy the redeemer… I can see your demons… At the end of our cycle honestly, what do we win, heaven? Or the best lie sold to us constructed to keep us in the state of settled? I respect the hustle, preach… Just don’t have the audacity to drain my energy when you can’t even unclog your sink…
Maybe I should speak your language… Don’t point at my anguish with claims of splinters within my eye, when yours contains enough that I’m able to build a fence… Shit… whom said that I cursed when it’s just another 4 letter word… A 4 letters word, like love… Misconstrued to manipulate & tug at the Strings of the heart, fall deep in, & leave in a pool while being drug, to your death… They say the the sins of the father only hand the son an extreme debt, so are we ever born free? Are we solemnly sworn to perform treason to the things that we believe? I’ve been deceived so much… To be institutionalize & robbed of healing things, like the softness of a woman’s touch… Is it too much to ask… to live my life, safe, love, wanted, protected, & not be harassed? Have I passed the test you’ve given… Found innocent in the trial of living? I have very little, but i’ve given even more… Love, compassion, silence in harassment, & sacrifices within war… I swore to never turn into the things that I most despise… Never play victim & see things in the oppositions eyes, by far it’s the hardest thing to do… Set the charges for the demolition, so carnage & strife will become tools… The punishment, is always cruel & unusual… Sad, but I have to admit that these are things that I grew to know… Some might agree with, most will see unfit… Life is to be experienced & enjoyed in the process… & death, is only the gift…

Dennis J. Watson
DOC #A632936

Categories: Dennis Watson

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