Habitual
Habitual
Habitual, that is what you call me,
as you finish your sentence casually
turning my life from living,
to death as long as I live,
sealing me into history as another
judicial fatality,
blinding saviors in society
until even their elect eyes consider
this normality.
I sit behind walls and spit at
the potential nonsense you push
at my common sense,
making me look dense,
but truth be told
I’m just a reflection of the
old,
caught by captivity,
locked down by savagery,
tempted to dance in the American
economical parody
and sadly, not many seem to care
that the voice of the people
Is being choked out by the governmental snores
that only cater to their affairs,
while we become victims
they reap share,
but who cares.
who cares that we are looked at
to be socially pitiful
so we get treated habitual.
What does it matter that I’m also
a human life,
but because I made bad choices
you decide to treat my soul trivial
my situation is now critical,
and though some may say I’m
being analytical, reading,
too much into a thing,
I say I’m just calling it
like I’ve seen it
since the day you amended
13, and while Martin
Luther had it, it’s not hard to tell
that we are still living the same
slaved out scene
praying to get fed peaches,
but only getting served the cream
of a dream.
but yet I see the sun rising over
the horizon it seems, sadly
I gaze past the judicial, pass the
political, beyond all the trivial that
tries to assault my visual
as I press for the mark to hit
in societies heart
to get them to see that there’s
more to me
than just being displayed to be
Habitual.
