Mind Electric

Look who it is, the saddened and weak.
It seems those beams of light have caused some glare.
Freakish and dismal. Hollow and bleak.
I could go on, but let’s leave it there.
Resident Heart is feeble and frail.
A scourge to purge; due diligence is all.
Silent, sad outbursts, inaudible wails
dictate he never does as he’s told.
Fathers of fathers, brothers of sons,
deterred from being what they know they can.
All because Heart refuses to run.
This creature hardly resembles a man.

My logic is the absolute.
His pity parties simply harm these chances at an apt repute:
esteemed regard in place of mockery.

I’m sure it seems from his point of view
that I’m a simple, cynical machine.
But is it so hard to see the whole truth?
I merely seek a Soul that’s pristine.

I can’t claim that I enjoy this, covering for a tortured boy
that’s slowly tired of all his toys. His wiles and woes ring like white noise.
And I know that it’s hard to see my rhyme behind the entropy,
but if he’d just once humor me, he’d see we need to live life logically.

See how The Heart plays profound.
(See how he lies.)
But the depth is insincere.
A pathetic, thin veneer.
All the pain, regret and fear still resound.
[HA HA HA HA.]

See how his feet miss the ground
and he falls inside a hole he dug for me.
The kind of irony you’d read in Bible stories.
Maybe my existence might be by design.
A simple fact that he’ll refuse to see.

Though I seem harsh in all my assessments,
we each seek a life lived in the light.
Yet, there lies our Heart, engulfed in resentment.
Stubborn, pale akaryocyte.