Absent Minded
Stop asking If I'm ok
Dont wish me well by hoping im doing ok
I'm not singling anyone out
but everyone who stops by
to read one or a hundred poems
always hopes
always asks
always says
I hope you doing ok
Here it is
These are my delusions
covered in sugar and cookies and cake
with the pitchforks of the true demons taken away
presented to you as sour grapes
My first name is a song
my middle name another
my last name a warning
and when i put the together
a riddle that leaves me in amomentary paranoid wondering surrender
Oconnor
since i aid you am i still a liar
and no one knows anything of my resume
and how i worked at ta restaraunt called the flame
before i lit the insurance salesman's house on fire
to save his daughter's lives from drug dealers
And the jam looks so pearly
what would Jeremy say
would you go crazy to lead by example
of dont drink and run away
from the miller time
to be moved a block away
to breach a probation
and blackmailed again to ponder divine intervention
and like an ostrich temporarily forget the fights in your broken home
the purple fingerprints and scartissue bumps
of monkey see monkey do
but the bizkit is limp
and this full nelson around my grandpas estate
in a french word for agreat big hiding place
the coal mine shut down
and surrounding my friends and family
the ones who got away
are far far away
the ones who knew me well
are insane or crippled
or dead by now
so am i being stocked
only time will tell
and thats the reality
grandmothers cancer
stepgrandmothers faulty breaks
grandfather's accidental death
and greed around a huge estate
and i'm being misdiagnosed again and again
while i write my delusions
to discover that 1979 gives me the zipper blues
oh happy birthday November rain
I loved her too
And 21 things i want in a lover
the day i was born to discover this
but you only know of half the story and through the mountain ive handed you
u dont even know the half truth of the military and dungeons and dragons
so should i mention my dreams
my nightmares my telepathy
or should i end this happy
I'm not doing ok but i am writing
and miserably failing a fairytale that revolves around a world that will never be
a book of prince and princesses witches and queens
a king of first perxson statues and riddles
and heres what it truly means
If i was god and you sold me the world for a dollar
anmd you would stop and listen to me
you would come to understand thos brave enough to fight for our country
if things were my way would be trained to defend
then go out to play paintball round robions of peace
propoganda would make ewveryone millions
and the pentagon of previous people let in on the conspiracy would
terrorise those to apathetic to care
then one day id remove the veil from the world to show them by leading them
from mansion to puzzle to maze to safe place like a cultic church of saints
and the truth would be revealed
and the sucker patrol of everybodies fool
would have a true peace omn earth and this woul dbe our holiday
no real guns
no real bombs and the terrorism was just a joke
hahahahaha very funny
life lessons learned
and the page of history would turn
to see if we do the same act for man or discover another chapterof the instructional joke book
i'm leaving behind
Am i doing ok
please stop asking....
im just as good as you busty crying for the confusion and chaos and wondering about my telepathy
and synchronicity
everybody asks
and honestly i could be a whollot better
i will always be under the weather
the future could be a lot better
im tired of these tears and a world i dream i could give but because of beliefs you wont recieve
so im frustrated and second chances wont come to me
due to the justice system being soo crooked
that if they had to do something to save their skin they would and they have peroved it
by screwing me over
among the thorn bush is a four leaf clover
there are no roses
to guard the rifles
and the beast locked away beauty
and says alot about his disciples
and my bible about anothe rplanet which i have yet to finish writing
and my oracle book to replace boibliomancy of prophecies
every generation will ive through and understand i grasp but cant fully understand
its as though the pen takes over and now im discovering demons
i ask the right questions
and i know in this nightmnare wether im a psychological test or whatever
i dont want to come back
but im leaving things behind
half the story gas yet to be told and need to foind someone with enough time and bravery to write down the story of my life
because idont have enough time
and i guarantee it would be a best seller
am i doing ok
no
am i lioeing no
are these delusions no
do i wonder if im being salked by a serial killer or crazed lunatic or cult
sometimes yes
ive looked for clues
and there is my name and birthday in the music
and the things i dream become songs on the radio
and all i can ask is who iam
and the scariest part of all
is in all ther places and apartments ive lived
there has been a song fort that too
so am i brainwashed?
mentally ill?
gullible?
some form of terrorism for the stars?
does anyone care...
i dont think so
i have good days
this is a better one
im kind of ok
just please please stop asking
because out of 10 000 comments i get asked everyday
I'm not singling anyone out
but everyone who stops by
to read one or a hundred poems
always hopes
always asks
always says
I hope you doing ok
Here it is
These are my delusions
covered in sugar and cookies and cake
with the pitchforks of the true demons taken away
presented to you as sour grapes
My first name is a song
my middle name another
my last name a warning
and when i put the together
a riddle that leaves me in amomentary paranoid wondering surrender
Oconnor
since i aid you am i still a liar
and no one knows anything of my resume
and how i worked at ta restaraunt called the flame
before i lit the insurance salesman's house on fire
to save his daughter's lives from drug dealers
And the jam looks so pearly
what would Jeremy say
would you go crazy to lead by example
of dont drink and run away
from the miller time
to be moved a block away
to breach a probation
and blackmailed again to ponder divine intervention
and like an ostrich temporarily forget the fights in your broken home
the purple fingerprints and scartissue bumps
of monkey see monkey do
but the bizkit is limp
and this full nelson around my grandpas estate
in a french word for agreat big hiding place
the coal mine shut down
and surrounding my friends and family
the ones who got away
are far far away
the ones who knew me well
are insane or crippled
or dead by now
so am i being stocked
only time will tell
and thats the reality
grandmothers cancer
stepgrandmothers faulty breaks
grandfather's accidental death
and greed around a huge estate
and i'm being misdiagnosed again and again
while i write my delusions
to discover that 1979 gives me the zipper blues
oh happy birthday November rain
I loved her too
And 21 things i want in a lover
the day i was born to discover this
but you only know of half the story and through the mountain ive handed you
u dont even know the half truth of the military and dungeons and dragons
so should i mention my dreams
my nightmares my telepathy
or should i end this happy
I'm not doing ok but i am writing
and miserably failing a fairytale that revolves around a world that will never be
a book of prince and princesses witches and queens
a king of first perxson statues and riddles
and heres what it truly means
If i was god and you sold me the world for a dollar
anmd you would stop and listen to me
you would come to understand thos brave enough to fight for our country
if things were my way would be trained to defend
then go out to play paintball round robions of peace
propoganda would make ewveryone millions
and the pentagon of previous people let in on the conspiracy would
terrorise those to apathetic to care
then one day id remove the veil from the world to show them by leading them
from mansion to puzzle to maze to safe place like a cultic church of saints
and the truth would be revealed
and the sucker patrol of everybodies fool
would have a true peace omn earth and this woul dbe our holiday
no real guns
no real bombs and the terrorism was just a joke
hahahahaha very funny
life lessons learned
and the page of history would turn
to see if we do the same act for man or discover another chapterof the instructional joke book
i'm leaving behind
Am i doing ok
please stop asking....
im just as good as you busty crying for the confusion and chaos and wondering about my telepathy
and synchronicity
everybody asks
and honestly i could be a whollot better
i will always be under the weather
the future could be a lot better
im tired of these tears and a world i dream i could give but because of beliefs you wont recieve
so im frustrated and second chances wont come to me
due to the justice system being soo crooked
that if they had to do something to save their skin they would and they have peroved it
by screwing me over
among the thorn bush is a four leaf clover
there are no roses
to guard the rifles
and the beast locked away beauty
and says alot about his disciples
and my bible about anothe rplanet which i have yet to finish writing
and my oracle book to replace boibliomancy of prophecies
every generation will ive through and understand i grasp but cant fully understand
its as though the pen takes over and now im discovering demons
i ask the right questions
and i know in this nightmnare wether im a psychological test or whatever
i dont want to come back
but im leaving things behind
half the story gas yet to be told and need to foind someone with enough time and bravery to write down the story of my life
because idont have enough time
and i guarantee it would be a best seller
am i doing ok
no
am i lioeing no
are these delusions no
do i wonder if im being salked by a serial killer or crazed lunatic or cult
sometimes yes
ive looked for clues
and there is my name and birthday in the music
and the things i dream become songs on the radio
and all i can ask is who iam
and the scariest part of all
is in all ther places and apartments ive lived
there has been a song fort that too
so am i brainwashed?
mentally ill?
gullible?
some form of terrorism for the stars?
does anyone care...
i dont think so
i have good days
this is a better one
im kind of ok
just please please stop asking
because out of 10 000 comments i get asked everyday
Comment On This Poem ---
Stop asking If I`m ok
Stop asking If I`m ok
