The Contrarian

Your pleasure is a poison,

killing me

a little every day.

The things that make you smile,

just make me fade away.

Although I’ve tried to change,

I remain contrary;

I find no joy

in the things that you seem to need.

I can barely stand the air you breathe.


Every touch,

every kiss,

every taste,

every hit;

just one more

shovelful of dirt upon my casket.

Every drink,

every song,

every word,

every long night spent living

just means more days of dying.

See, I’m trying,

but I’m not getting through to you;

I don’t think you see you’re dying, too.


My home is trial and hardship

and beatings and seeking

a way through the darkness.

I survive on pain and discomfort

and absence,

toil and struggle

and madness.


I find no love in your concepts

of comfort.

Soft is the pillow,

they come when they smother you.

In this warm cocoon,

they seek to cover you;

keep you safe and warm

and blind and deaf and dumb.

Hand you some pills for the pain,

afflicting your body and brain.

Pills for the crazy and more for the sane.

Have another drink my friend,

you’re still not numb!


This is a toxic fucking world to me.

They’ll fucking stab you in the back

so happily.

and tell you all of this

is just temporary

and you’ll have to agree,

or you’ll have to answer to

those that make

the rules.

Who draw the lines,

who choose what kind

of news you’ll see

and you’ll believe,

because they’ve literally

made your mind.


Programmed with nutrition,

with your schools

and television.

With religion

and musicians;

you’ve been drugged

to buy another lie.


That’s why this world is toxic,

I’ve just walked away from all this.

Live my life and keep my promise,

but I can’t be

another one of you.

The Sun of this world

is killing you,

that should have been a sign

you’re gonna lose.

The moans and sighs of pleasure that I hear,

are telling me the end is almost here.


HG – 2016

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