The Story’s Answer Part 3

I did not mean it,

I did not mean to,

I did not wish to

burn my scripts

and lines

but I did, I did it

as a projection of

my own dreary 


Blue hearts to black,

that is the lyric,

that is what I did 

with my poetic paints,

So forevermore,

I must bare your witness,

I did not mean to be selfish.

That is Fear!

Fear is selfish,

Fear is the only cruelty.

All Evil stems from


and all Fear is from Evil.

All are spawned

of deeds or an ignorant

and fortuitous self.

There is no pride in this past,

but there is a lesson,

there is knowledge.

Its truth not relative,

nor subject.

The opinion of the dregs 

means nothing,

but to a smart messiah

it means everything.

It was only to get by,

it was imagined,

it was a mistake but

those mistakes are lessons.

Strength can be weakness.

No apology will do what

needs to be done,

Apologies are only words,

not actions,

what actions?

It was an act

in retribution in

attack and attacks

are out of fears.

Shallow fault and


Parchment fall of

the victim’s victim.

There is no more I.

Self of thy in equation,

in the so called

so called

of the cruel social standard.

What is a culture’s construction?

Why be ye cruel world!?

To give birth

to such an evil concept

known as fate,

known as greed,

known as isolation.

Who will hear these words?

Will history?

Will family?

Will narcotic rages?

Will the fate transcend?

What is one question too many?

What more?

What else?

So many narrated floats

and drifts,

Thoughts sworn trumpet 

and fluid.

No verb nor lineage

royal or not.

Never tell a child

to prepare for the worst.

Never tell a child

you can’t trust anyone.

Trust and love,

be prepared for the worst,

but don’t expect it.

Patience isn’t fun

but it’s worth it.

No new chapter,

No new story,

I need isolated conscious peace

Humble readings from patience

later misspelled


and uncast





Yes each work 

lacking flow

piece peace or


Peace’s repeated


What divides me from

such drawn and defeated men?

Once self delusion,

now truth,

Personal drawn conflict

in the presence of

or a thought.

Have hope,

victory assured,


Oh, indeed a must

is not even 

a humble comedy

true comedy

the slaughter of

the gladiators.

Was not a story’s

suffering the reason for your escape.

No more out to

abridge certain lies,

personal delusion,

drink up, you are beyond safe.

I feel victory

is not assured,

it is a guarantee

why escape only

to return,

besides habit.

Do not think 

of exemption,

Think of effort,

think of the timeline,

think of escape,

think of every-time

who truth did


but ring beautiful,

I will not end my trance

I will not escape,

prepare and drive,

drift self,

carry on the path.

Escape from these sights

I have every reason to ask

what escapes.

Nothing, witness it,

only witness.

These names slip,

but so do yours,

bare no judgement

this is pattern,

this is habit,

this is what

Thompson was talking about.

Three Thompsons in my life,

my past,

one wise, one crazy, one drunk.

Bare no wisdom,

no true wisdom,

bare no pride

no true achievement,

is old war propaganda true?

Do loose lips not sink ships?

Does not careless talk cost lives?

No true word, 

I despise the words






these words burn my tongue.

I renounce nothing, 

but i hang my head,

but no guilt

I apologize,

but I have no guilt.

Simply responsibility.

Published by James J Jackson

I'm a poet from California.

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