A long, twisted poem about playing a game that I wish to have no real part in. |
-Just Too Real- by Keaton Foster I stand here Pointing Screaming My lion’s share God above Fool there beyond the sun What have you done How could you ever What purpose did you wish What meaning have you kept You, dare I so willingly say Are the bastard of all intent In this critical mistake That is continually happening Some have, while others don’t Some will live, while many others won’t All will face you in time All will stand within your shine All will be judged accordingly And might I add quite ridiculously If you can, if you dare, if you fear Then strike me down Make no sound Do it real loud Either way Justice purveyed I will understand After all I am just a man A fallible perfection created Semantics with regard to On purpose Or by accident One half Or a dozen of another This world This reality Just too real Forgive you I could not It’s not my place Not my sincerest wish to waste I have been raised to the ground I have been sunken to the depths Your madness shows no pity No sympathy am I sure you feel I am just one of so many All of us are experiments Within a petri dish Held in your malevolent hand Once you are done Once you know what you must We will all be disposed of Thrown out like trash This world, your experiment The universe, a garbage bin Incredulous, I know, dare I suppose Preposterous, I understand, clarity in hand I am sure that you are saying That I, a sinner of a heretic Am just running off at the mouth Wishing that I was much more Wishing that I had a suitable chance Certain that everything is somehow unfair Even though I know nothing of the rules And if I did I am sure that such rules Need not apply Life The one that I’m living This one that was given Just too real Is such a reality what you intended Or is it a byproduct of everything That you intended least of all… Just Too Real Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013 |