A special poem really meant to twist your head into knots. Meaning is always not so clear. |
-All Along My Own- by Keaton Foster All along my own What I know What I don’t One and the same All of it my pain All of it my way I fight the game As I play to win The consummate loser I’ve never really had a chance God’s slighted hand Misaligned with his image Set askew from his words Does me the most damage He beats me right down Whenever I try to get back up Whenever I publically oppose His increasingly nonexistent role His knuckles are bruised His palms stained red He won’t find it in his heart To even begin to relent But fortunate for me Neither will I Both his gift and curse To me and my life A gift such as that Can never be taken back Never be returned Always it remains mine Part of my heart Bits of my mind Chunks of my soul There can be nothing else And to that I often say All along my own Variable is the sense Twisted is the logic Ideally such things As those words and ideas Do everything but go together Everything but be as one But there it is The dichotomy me And of who it is that I am And how I have come to relate With the man up above The one gripping his hand And shouting take this You, every child of sin You, those so innocent You, so damned to begin with Faith is indeed a vicious circle And like it or not People like you Like us Are caught in the middle There is no real escape No change that any Not a single one Can contend with Fighting the system Burning down the cities Killing every enemy Destroying all subsidy Is just par for the course The rights of the game That we are always playing Freewill, can neither be denied Or ever truly embraced It is just there Like the sky Like the sun Like everything that we know And everything that we don’t Both simple and complex Both relatable and deniable Unquestionable and challenged All in the same sentence All along my own To me makes the most sense I know there are others But in this circle Between God and humankind I see not a one of them All along my own What I know What I don’t One and the same All of it my pain All of it my way I fight the game As I play to win The consummate loser I’ve never really had a chance And to that and God above I’ll always come to say So be it… All Along My Own Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014. |