Life's a bitch
from 
JoeUser Forums
JoeUser Forums
life is a grinder, it is relentless and keeps coming
at you, no mercy, at no time,
I have friends who have spent more time at the front
than most polite people, they have scars where they have
been bitten, time after time, but not like dog bites, nothing
so gentle as that,
big, giant, jagged, great white shark bites.
you can tell when they turn a certain way, a sliver of light
exposes the marbled texture of amputee souls, just barely able
to carry the shell-shocked spirit, limping endlessly like ghost
armies moving with no hast—aimless, but moving,
life is sneaky and clever, it is a stalking predator with the most
ingenious methods, in the cloak of righteousness, it will strip the
patina of diversity to leave an interchangeable homogeneity in it’s
wake,
there is no guarantee that good deeds will soften the blows or serve
as barter when collectors come, life builds walls and great men shake
and quibble over safety’s scraps as their legacies are left the crumbs
of moldy compromise and lofty morals,
life would give us a choice, decision theories abound, but the folly
of first place from last exists just enough to lay blame at one’s own
feet, life shines accusations as if only you exist, as if you knew the
rules and cheated fairly,
life demands paths of least resistance or trouble and room to wake
the demons of apathy, it leaves working moms with working dads and
kiddies roaming in packs from one mall to the next, calls it family and
fills the screen with Hollywood fantasies sprayed-painted in the hope
that the lights don’t come up too soon,
life’s a bitch, you’d be wise to keep your eyes on her.
J. Masuda © 2005
at you, no mercy, at no time,
I have friends who have spent more time at the front
than most polite people, they have scars where they have
been bitten, time after time, but not like dog bites, nothing
so gentle as that,
big, giant, jagged, great white shark bites.
you can tell when they turn a certain way, a sliver of light
exposes the marbled texture of amputee souls, just barely able
to carry the shell-shocked spirit, limping endlessly like ghost
armies moving with no hast—aimless, but moving,
life is sneaky and clever, it is a stalking predator with the most
ingenious methods, in the cloak of righteousness, it will strip the
patina of diversity to leave an interchangeable homogeneity in it’s
wake,
there is no guarantee that good deeds will soften the blows or serve
as barter when collectors come, life builds walls and great men shake
and quibble over safety’s scraps as their legacies are left the crumbs
of moldy compromise and lofty morals,
life would give us a choice, decision theories abound, but the folly
of first place from last exists just enough to lay blame at one’s own
feet, life shines accusations as if only you exist, as if you knew the
rules and cheated fairly,
life demands paths of least resistance or trouble and room to wake
the demons of apathy, it leaves working moms with working dads and
kiddies roaming in packs from one mall to the next, calls it family and
fills the screen with Hollywood fantasies sprayed-painted in the hope
that the lights don’t come up too soon,
life’s a bitch, you’d be wise to keep your eyes on her.
J. Masuda © 2005