Having it seem to be that I am caught off guard and not really prepared for the rest, and have the feeling that some prayers never reach the sky and I guess the same can be said about some wounds never healing as well as there being some wars that never end and continue to rage and sting. I have been a rebel for most of my days, and have always strived to be an individual, and not go along with the pack. As well as being a free thinker and not buying some of the things they tell us. There are times when I think my time has come and I am sorry for those things that have been done, and for living this life I know, I will pay for it. With there still being times in my dreams it is time to go, and sometimes a cold, solitary stone can be seen standing in an old graveyard with my name on it.
Caught out on an old railroad siding knowing there would be no turning back as the thunder of guns could be heard out on the horizon, and sometimes has me wondering if I should just make my way on back to Texas. YeahTexas; that outlaw republic where the fools aren’t suffered and have been played as their minds were blown. Still, there are times when I wonder if I could ever go back there again? Then again maybe so if I am ever thunderstruck, as I can feel that hot wind blowing over my shoulder reminding me where I come from is a lot older and it’s like receiving a wavelength from across the border.From where they call you friend and recalling a dream of being in El Paso with a drink in my hand at La Hacienda and thought I saw Elvis walkin’ across the Rio Grande.
So, give me a reason or a sign and maybe a ticket for the end of the line, and then I’ll see where I will be, and everything changes as the last firetrucks from Hell pass me by out here on that old Highway 61. I’m trying to avoid the undertow from that whirlpool of lies, out near those waterfalls of pity that the rivers of blindness feed. After having so many mind games that had been attempted to be played as the barrier was pushed, and seeing some of the madness after the veil was pulled back. Everything having been billed as a wonderful thing with all attempting to be projected as a sort of a template with fate being once a friend and now feeling as if having been injected with a poison by it all.
There have been some moments that have passed me by, with there being dreams instead thrown out like beer cans lying on the shoulder of the road to be reflected in the passing lights. Sometimes the darkside can be heard calling, and it makes all seem like it isn’t real, and it makes me feel crazy as well as mean when that line that is toed is finally crossed. Turning my head until the darkness and blackness goes and hoping it doesn’t come back, and seeing people turn their heads and quickly walk away or pull the blinds and change their minds as they hope it all fades away.But, then again, their crap doesn’t wash, and I have died a million times and having been flexible to re-invent myself, and picked a form of culture well, while they all are busy power tripping and trying to have all swallow their form of revolution.
Having seen things when I could and did what I could when all was there for me, and it seems as though I might have burned up and wasted some of the precious time I had. Having reached out and tried to touch another soul and tried to take the hand offered when I had the chance, and when lies seemed to be trying to tear me apart. With those who had the nerve to still call themselves friend when I was down, and now it’s not my problem, for I remember them standing there grinning. Life can hurt, and it was never supposed to be easy, and it’s like a ticking clock with no idea when it will stop or when the second hand will catch us. So, let’s stand our ground and fill the streets and let them all hear that rebel beat echoing loud with the truth to be heard clear and loud till another age of darkness is beaten back again.
Life is always more than who or what we are, and history repeats which means that they could be like those old re-runs on TV, or just flicker like those old black and white silent movies on the screen from what some might call the good old days.
Copyright: Timberwolf International LTD. February 2017 – 11
