Bigots and the deep blue seaYou, you salivating, flapped eyed, self-absorbed, blubbering messYou thick, self-promoting, uncertified mentally disturbed, half-witwho cannot see past your own narrow scope, your veiled perception of this world.You, you who look down, look up, look to anything for egotistical meansYou who scoff, belittle, judge, pretend and hide your own insecurities and mistakesof whatever past or future endeavours but hypocritically resent the truthful ones.You, you traditional, oppressive, this-works-because-it-works typeYou who refuse to see the plank in your own eye, to smell the stench of your own surroundingsstooped in practices old and outdated and scorns knowledge like a plague.There is a place for you, dearest you.Far removed from this world’s scorn, where you will feel at home and in good companyFree from these liberal, love-one-another, tree-hugging, free-thinking world changers,these “let’s give peace a chance” and “together we can” type.Th
I Am Made Of SteelI am made of steel and you cannot hurt meWhen you stare at me, expect a prevailing glareYou cannot bring me downWhen you slander me, look closely and notice not a flinchYou cannot bring me downWhen you taunt me, my spirit is strong and gives strength to my fleshYou cannot bring me downWhen you strike me, feel the pain writhing in you hand, I continue to standBecause you cannot bring me down
I am made of steel, and you cannot hurt meWhen you tempt me, my flesh submits to Greater LoveYou cannot bring me downWhen you oppress me, my name is Hero and I stand tallYou cannot bring me downWhen you curse me, my King is principal to malevolenceYou cannot bring me downWhen you kill me, destroyed I am not resurrection's in my bloodAnd you cannot bring me downI am made of steel!
HopeThere is a fear that hauntsThat creeps, that stalksUp a staircase, ascending voiceOr familiar tone, you turn to stone.There's a feeling so sad, ofGuilt of pain, it saps you dry, you cry.Leaves you bitter, lonely and coldYour limbs contract in foetus fold.But there's a Hand so strong, so gentle so softLifts you out and picks you upA Hand that heals, restores and mendsThat hand strengthens, protects, that Hand defends.
The ActPukes, poops and puddles of tears and all the rest of playful blissBubblegum, birds, bees, buddies and babesFinds passion, desire, love and lust and dreams of wealthDesks, a boss, colleagues and flirtsKids, bonds, shares and extra time never enough time!And all the rest of woeful remorse, puddles of tears and poops and pukes and thenOut of time, you breathe, the curtain falls and you die.Act Two
The WolfI creep around unnoticed.Through busy schedule people, traffic signs and meal time ticketsI observe myself forming part of an ecosystem of a bleeding forestAn environment that shrivels away from me yet accepts me.My mouth waters for my unquenchable thirst, my insatiable hunger, my shameful longing.My conscience disturbed, aware of my foul existence.Innocence and good intentions wander care-free all around.Unaware of the looming danger, the deceptive strangerI feed off the ignorance, but remain alert, sensibly heightenedCharade through the thickets, a travesty I am.A wailing howl laments inwardly, cracking only my long earsToothless intruder wears wool too comfortablyBut smells of wet canine brushy fur.Do you know who I am?