The moon glows bright as she sits in her black and star speckled throne.
Kissed by craters that were birthed by comets from unknown zones.
Shes watched our lives, watched existence and how lifes grown.
Watched from afar with no company but her own.
I stare and admire her strength, shes been alone since birth.
Cursed with a barren desolate surface.
Her purpose to circle and follow earth.
She is but one example of creation in this infinitely confusing universe.
We\'ve all been nursed on the idea that science explains all logically.
There are laws that can\'t be broken, like Newtons rule of gravity.
Explanations are created to define the strange things we witness rationally.
Even when we\'re faced with unique and phenominal situations and happenings.
All ornate visible or physical permissable things are regarded as classified,
then tossed aside,
deemed to be hoaxs or dreams.
Each human being is blinded by skeptical high beams.
Stuck inside the box of never viewing these for more than what they seem.
Segregated from self-actualizing our meaning for being.
All of us sub-conciously steering towards the wrong answer.
Enclosed in a jewelery box, with us, the tiny dancers.
Always succumbing to our superficial masters.
Allowing ourselves to be endowed with manipulating cancers.
Our dead imaginations buried so deep inside that they wouldn\'t be enticed to resurrect or rise,
to once again be alive,
even by necromancers.
Instead we opt to tread with closed eyes and minds.
Accepting our lives as is in the continous everyday social grind.
Believing there is no more to discover about the world beyond our mother, no more to find.
Just sheep grouping in behind one ass after another.
BUT
my wool is black I choose to be free.
A contract of downsizing our thoughts about uplifting our psychology, I won\'t sign or agree.
My position is angled obtusely, a widened mathematical degree.
Out side the box is where I\'m going to plant my nomadic feet.
Hopefully others will be awakened by the words these uncensored lips speak.
Sparking plagues of \"wanting individuality.\"
Causing mass amounts of collared and shackled to voice their opinions.
No longer conformitys bridled minions.
The chains begin to rust away and snap like fishing tackle.
Having belief but not consuming lies from the misleading tabernacle.
They\'ll just rattle against who or what waves the finger at learning more.
With raised eyebrows and clenched fists we\'ll use our wit to conquer the war.
Our opportunities no longer coveted in dark rooms with locked doors.
A revolution of solutions will shake Earth to her core.
The there will be peace, a well deserved calm after the storm.
Equality will be adorned like the poor who manage to stay optimistic.
Understanding will be urged rather than catagorizing the once unacceptable as statistics.
Thats how I wish it could be but that just ain\'t it.
So on my view I will continue to sit.
Until what I\'m saying is seen as socially fit.
My words are my weapons against persistant politics.
