Expressionism

Of the one that's tough, when will be enough?

This fleeting, flaunting, failing short game of life

The power of the right man's way, brings strife.

Would all be a shame that if in this game

Of marking the days of countless green ways

We find that all value we worked for

Is something to ignore and abhor.

Pray, let come, for the door to appear

Stand ready to turn that great wheel.

Oh, please, shake off this failing mind that is captured,

stuck, in this hellish world of time.

Down deep where the burning flame to keep

To show it's true light when one makes the leap

And those who throw their taunting whispers, show

By their words of deceit and despair

For, it is they, who send you there.

As the fire dies inside, the spark lost it's will to cry

To see the hell that surrounds when you try

Your mouth can't speak to utter the words you live by

It was the cause of brightness that said you were fine

That never-catching hope that owns me to call mine.

Could positive words be the speech of lies,

The optimistic mysticism that grips us in a vise?

No matter the smile that stretch for miles

Will tell the true story of our woes and beguiles.