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PhoenixGodwin
My name is Phoenix Godwin. I'm 28 and I still want to do a lot for the world.

Phoenix Godwin @PhoenixGodwin

Age 33, Male

Long Story...

Savannah, GA

Joined on 6/29/05

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Deception

Posted by PhoenixGodwin - June 26th, 2010


I can't trust you fuckers.

And neither should you.

Dark deceptions crawl beneath the folds of all dispositions.
I've learned the truth.

One day.

One day.

So will you.

People will change your perceptions.

The easy flows of life will become edged and jagged.
Trust no one.
You can't.

Purple is black.

White is empty.

Lightning comes from the ground so that it can meet in the middle.

What IS real anymore?

Not a god damn thing.

Break a window.

The cracks
the fierce cutting razors
webs of a bleeding death yet founded by a sinister trapping spider
they're not new.
They were there the whole time, you just couldn't see it until the facade was obliterated.

Something that seemed so clean.
So clear.
It was never what you thought.

Most of you are sociopaths.
All people are just pieces in one big ugly game.
No exceptions.
No rules.

Fuck you.

If we can't live for each other, why do we even bother living in a world filled with people in the first place?
Why don't any of you care?

There are good people.
Honest people.
We exist.
Why would you NOT want to be this way?
Or is it just beyond your abilities.
It's so sad.

I remember a time when I trusted EVERYONE.
It was a good time.

As I've grown I've seen the worst sides of the best people.
I've seen the best parts in the worst people.
What should be so easy is lost in a disruptive chaos of selfish dogfuckery.
And nobody even cares.

Fuck all of you and your apathy.

I can't trust any of you fuckers.

Never again.

. .

See more of my poetry at www.allpoetry.com/PhoenixGodwin


Comments

wow dude you're so edgy and deep

And you're a troll. Thanks for commenting.

It can be good to get things like this out in poetry. Poetry is an underused form of communication and expression. Wondering if the world would be better off were more poetic devices employed in everyday conversation. People don't seem to realize how little it took to get the ball rolling in this direction on how we communicate with each other. A fungus might grow fractally along a set path of least resistance making us see it as one of many paths a fungus could explore; we could see a wide array of starkly varying pictures and collaborations of color in the tiniest of augmentations to scenario, all from one specimen of fungus. However, if the fungus were like humans, it would see its current path as the only possible one and hold no scrutiny to justifying its history as uniquely universal and of the most potent and logical (possibly even the only) path possible or plausible. A scientist born a year too soon or late, or a war monger accidentally killed before infamousy by a variance of one degree in the turn of a steering wheel by a careless driver.. How many of these unfortunate "what-ifs" HAVE actually occurred, and what changes to our environments and paradigms are required to get us further evolved? Hoping since this poem you have reacquired your trust in fellow creatures. Part of the human condition exposes us all to these thoughts, we are alienated by passing senses of displacement and distrust. Refreshing to see someone else capturing the feeling in poetry. For me, it serves as a reminder on how to pull OUT of feeling deceived by everything

I have a lot more respect for people at this point, even if not for their actions; I respect the Individual.

I still think most people are selfish, apathetic assholes though- but I doubt that will ever change, so I can't really blame them.