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Man is Thy Enemy



What makes a man a monster.
What causes him to hate,
While another man suffers his murderous ways.

No man is better than the next,
and yet our lives are livedĀ  precisely in that context.
To be a man, we must beat another at a game.
Run faster, jump higher, outwit, outsmart, outlast,
and in the end,
the biggest game is to out shoot, out kill.

There is within our souls,
a dirty little secret,
it is to crush the hearts of men.
Like too much wine it intoxicates us,
it feeds our ambitions.

Childhood friends were our training dummies,
Lovely ladies our emotional bullets.
The guns held high,
backfired at times.

The monster of a man,
is not the blame of one man
It is the monsters of all mankind,
culminating forgetting,
to out love and forgive what,
all men are guilty of.
____________________________________________________________________________________________

As an infant locked away in my basement I would turn an old 77 record on an RCA hand cranked turntable. My favorite song was Moonlight Sonata, but to fall asleep on the concrete floor I would crank up the machine, tuck my crazy brother under an itchy wool blanket and play Nocturne by Chopin.


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