Two Options
by Sam M. Phillips

I scratch my skin,
Unable to win,
Disable my grin,
Everything is sin.

Agitation provokes,
Fate revokes
My head stone,
Its letters soft.

There are two options,
One is death,
Simple,
Clean.

Then there is life,
Vibrant,
Chaotic,
Dirty.

I watch the possibilities proliferate,
I hate free will
If it means I’m still
Burdened by what could be.

I am stuck in a matrix,
I play tricks
On myself and others,
Programming smothers.

I seek a way,
I lean in to pay,
Kneel down to pray,
Nothing to say.

Out of silent spaces,
Ethereal hand traces
The outline of folk,
Temporary reality cloak.

I spoke too soon,
Still under sway of moon,
We swoon,
Hear its water song croon.

Balloon leaking,
Hear me speaking,
I’m not reaching
You or anyone.

My son,
What have you done?
Why do you always run
From your problems?

Have courage,
This barrage
Of outrage
Is not the reaction of a sage.

If this page must fill,
Then let it at least still
The galloping of the mind,
And ease the grip around the heart.

You must start to stand,
I am always here to lend a hand,
But the land
Of the living is your testing ground.

Look at everything you’ve found,
Listen to the sound
Of my voice,
And then make your own choice.