Here I Sit

Here I sit
And I must admit
That I am conflicted.

I am conflicted in that
I don't know.
People tell someone one thing
Then later do something
So extreme that one could only
Think the nice things were dreams.

I like to think that I can trust people.
Life would pass by easily.
And I do. That's the problem you see.

Be it a person telling you, you can't do something.
Or that you'll never afford any bling.
Be it you get slapped around.
Or have been choked. Punched. Pushed to the ground.

Repression of memories.

Did you know you repressed memories?
No, of course not, for they were hidden.
Hidden in the dark depths of your mind.
You don't need to wander there. You'll go blind.

There's a fog in your brain.
It needs to clear. If not will you become insane?

Yes, some bad things have happened to you.
But you can't just put a band-aid on that kind of boo boo.
Eventually the band-aid will fall off.
You are now stuck with emotions you've never known.

Too many.

Overwhelming.

Reclusion. Seclusion. Isolation.

Don't go into the dark recesses of your mind.
You'll get trapped there.
It will be so dark you won't be able to find a way out.

You need to be safe.

You need love.

You need encouragement.

You need...

The Story of Macbeth

There once was a man who wanted to be king,
So he did some very terrible things.

He and a friend ran into some sisters.
The kind that can make you have magical blisters.

The sisters said that one would be king,
And one would not.
One's son's would reign,
And one's would not.

HIs ambition grew and knocked his morals out of sight.
He wants to be king. This is now his plight.

But the man who would be king got in a rush,
and lots of lives got flushed.

His wife pushed him to kill.
Their love was a drug;
Some sort of pill.

So he did as she commanded,
But while under her spell,
he came to love this crime of bloodshed.

Paranoia. Guilt. Fear.
All mixed together in his atmosphere.

He's falling in a deep abyss of despair.
Murdered his loyal friend.
Screaming, ¨Who are you? Where?¨
Now into oblivion; he descends.

His wife murdered from afar.
Then when she felt trapped,
She killed herself.
Released from the bell jar.

A noble cousin has found out the truth,
Though it took no sleuth,
To figure out what Macbeth had done.
And now his head is none.