PROUD * * * * *A Chapter by Joshua Randall
We have this frivolous idea, to pull away from society.
To act different, run away;
but still hold on to the very fabrics that make us the same.
Passing the blame, onto everyone else.
Seen otherwise ignorant, as an unintelligible concept in ones viewpoint.
S**t on anyhow, in any conversation, one sided,
Played out in our very own, “nonsense of confidence.”
laid in the foundations, inside every city.
At every door step,
built into homes, under bridges.
Survived in the very offices we play in.
Sealed on our oldest known relative.
And on the back of every silver dollar, just reminders;
clues if we've ever paid attention.
…and not just the bartender,
on a Thursday night.
Where the glitter is thick,
where the drinks are pourin’.
With the bass that's thumpin,’ like never before.
On the floor, where we stare down our toilets the next mornin’.
Just to find, on the other side;
used rubbers, some business cards, and a key.
To a car we’ve obviously paid too much money for.
And on this pedestal, we reside, for the next few hours.
Basking with the thought of, “I shouldn’t have gone out last night…”
Right, rebuttal what felt so f****n’ fantastic.
Into another Friday morning.
Where we obviously haven’t gotta clue.
About this attention, the situation at hand;
So concerned about fitting in, being accepted in our own perverted;
self righteous, continuous, internal pity.
and loathed quietly in the big space, between our ears.
Only to stand out, like a sore thumb.
Dumb it is, how sour a sore mouth tastes.
After hours of use, and abuse,
Neglecting any true character it could possibly, portray.
Gay, just another summer, another season.
And a stupid f****n’ reason,
To show pride.
In any case,
Stonewall, Boston, The Shepherd, Proposition #2?
Reminders, ideas, all spectrums of color,
sown, stitched into yet another drag queen.
Who’s pride, means nothing today,
A grotesque mirage, another stupid squalor.
Just another leather daddy, with it’s dogs in collar.
So just stay the hauler!
For open bars, and one dollar drafts,
With laughs, and in the bathroom a quick fling,
With another stupid boy, who cares for nothing.
And on T.V. we'll march, for equal rights,
What rights could be taken seriously, seriously!?
By us attention w****s?
In the standing press, just actors,
That two- million kids are witnessing on the local CBS.
I have no respect, SIR, for these hypocrites,
and they’re attempts to perpetuate intolerance.
To seem efficient.
No interest in a worthless opinion,
from some idiot, f*g.
Waving some six sided phony flag,
In my children’s, children’s faces,
Because in truth, their just cases,
…traces, from something once beautiful.
Written By; Joshua Randall
Session IV: Eventually
© 2012 Joshua Randall
Eventually - Session IV, Ages 21 - 23
AboutI've written the first fantasy book out of its trilogy and am currently signed. In my spare-time, I write poetry, songs, and journal entries. Cheers *I have no interest in literary agents or publis.. more..
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