it’s all fantasy and bullshit,
it’s all hypocrisy and lies,
it’s all vanity and puffed up pride,
it’s all just cheap, innocent illusion,
it is what it is;
strip away the greed,
remove the lust,
wipe off the impermeable filth,
reach out just once before
it is too late,
it is what it is;
past the point of no return,
no more free passes,
no more worn out excuses,
no more finger pointing,
no more hiding under the table,
it is what it is;
you gave it your best shot,
you gave it all you had,
but it was never close,
it was never quite enough,
it never had a chance;
it is what it is;
words dance and spin,
heaving and pulsating,
gyrating and undulating,
titillating like some
coked up stripper,
full of fanciful, fanatical
flesh driven dreams,
waiting to explode onto
forgotten, feverish faces
for the cost of one thin
dollar bill,
filling and stuffing,
until there is room for no more,
gagging and sagging,
choking and smoking,
one-way, back-street alleys,
death without dying,
honor without honor;
it is what it is;
this body fades into the mist,
alone and insecure,
never to rise,
never to return;
in the morning darkness,
I reach for Your precious hand,
from heights of places unknown,
You take hold,
pulling me from the pits below,
restoring me once again,
forgiving me,
loving me,
healing me;
You are all there is.
.
.
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