no one answers?
someone on a similar level -

i've changed in thinking
not so much more raging against the injustice
but somehow accepting it
yet hoping that change finds us

what do i hate?
i don't exactly know myself
people that fight for themselves
no matter how, should be justified right?

and my moral values are non-existent?
i would lie to save my skin, yet condemn those who also do it?

contradictions huh

and the cube says

it goes round and round
a 9 by 9 thing
we place it in our hands
toy gently

but if u apply a lil' twist here
a lil' twist there,
jumbled are the colors
but who really cares?

its diversity we seek,
yet we hate the lack of,
societal order and peek
despising chaos

so we have a lil' problem
do we close our eyes and ignore the answers
or perform magic with fingers
turn everything back to it once was?

color with color
red against red
the dawn sings of mixes
but the sun never sets

so are we a society?
or just ..?

here we put on a show

shakespearean, in my likes and dislikes
the way i turn circles around so many fights
clashes between your wants and your needs
the stage seems to accept, every single thing

so we put on our makeup, game face on
and smile sweetly, as the music plays on
classic classical, melodic with lines
you can visualize this, for it leaves signs

my body arches, frozen in grief
and the expression on face, sells this disease
this nonsense, that the common filth buys
theatre is art, devalued and dies

a very sad situation, and i'm unemployed
the chairs collect dust, the backrooms grow bored
actors turn to drink, and actresses to lust
but me? i cannot stop.
put on my mask.

in the false hope that the stage rises again
for that is the only medium that crushes my pain
the agony of acting,
succeeded only by the agony of not
we as humans can no longer grow
so we put on this show.

and he runs


whoosh, the sound of leaves
combined with cool scent of the breeze
its therapeutic
like placebos for the stupid

we've all got shitloads of problems
so many, some can, most can't be resolved
endless attacks on the brain
and in the end they morph

into multiheaded monsters
your swords dented and blunt, rusty and old
couldn't slash nothin', so empty and cold

in times like this, my solace is
the peace left behind when you start running and
pain in the legs takes the pain of reality
overwhelms and degrades you into molecues with irrelevancy

so you're left a speck, in this giant ball of water
where fishes swim blissfully,
just empty the bottle..

and its gone - just like the wind
when he's running, away from his sinss