I’m seeking a truth within these fragmented words
My thoughts won’t cooperate with how my fingers move
Typing on this old handmedown machine to transform
My mundane existence into a magical, deliberate groove
I am not afraid to expose the flesh of a wilted soul
There are no heroes in these parts, just broken misanthropes
Internalizing the segmented society & all the villains
Returning to coffee so black the void regains precious hope
Two plus two does not equal five
You’re subversive by remaining alive
By thinking independently, you’re disputin’
A rouge in the night like the fellow Rasputin
You don’t have to pick a side with these villains
Coming after the people with their fists clenched
Instead choose love, honesty & compassion
That will always be enough for a soul to be quenched
I think you have the wrong notion of me
I could be wrong, but it’s what I believe
I’m neither the saint nor the villain
In which your notions are trying to achieve
I’m not nearly as arrogant as I portray
That’s merely the manifestation of a fictional role
I know confidence is sexy & I’m trying my best
But I have doubts regarding the quality of the contents of my soul
Captain Q 