I have felt.

In my life and times, I have felt,
the hunger that desperation brings
and the insane, miracle making, competitive energy it gives,
I have felt,
hard times and grueling days
where the work keeps on punishing your back,
but my defiant spirit grows stronger,
I have felt,
jobs where it became a matter of survival,
jobs where it was nothing but a paycheck,
jobs that I needed far more than the other person did,
the joy of creating and getting paid for it
(which felt like a great scam),
I have had my eye twinkle in victory,
from the glistening gold of the trophy hoisted in my hands,
and in the same week,
vomited on the train ride home,
I have felt
my shoulder pop from it’s own socket,
my blood smeared on my lip,
all my pride, firmly trampled on,
the swelling need for revenge,
and the dissipation of it as it makes way for pity,
I have felt,
another person’s anger, misdirected at another,
Diffused fights,
started them,
won some and lost some,
yet all felt the same — utter stupidity and emptiness,
And taught me the values of non-violence as the answer,
I have felt
the pain of losing somebody who taught you how to build a cubbyhouse,
and the strength of being there for another, who lost his son from cancer,
I have felt,
gratitude for being able to sprint in soaked through boots,
feeling like you’re going to have a really hard, doing nothing in bed but thinking,
knowing ahead of time that you’re about to sabotage your own happiness,
going to war for Phyrrus,
and seeing Carthage burn,
I have had,
premonitions of the mundane, bold & existential,
the kind of nightmares that see you hauling boxes,
and being content that it’s your great life’s work.
I have felt
deeply, and passionately towards many women,
my heart turn to ice,
with my soul on fire,
I have been content, holding hands in a shopping centre,
looking at our future together, whilst window shopping,
whilst having this
nagging, gnawing thing in my soul,
screaming at me to resist and create,
then, proceeded to give it all up
just to follow that voice.
I have plowed my car off the cliff,
in the knowledge that a rebel’s death
is far sweeter than surrender,
like you could ever contain the King of Jungle
in a cage, and keep him happy once he’s tasted true freedom.
I have felt
wanting and craving,
true hunger,
anger towards my parents,
pity towards myself,
seeing where I really came from,
and not liking the answer at all,
3am dreams where I had to confront my existence,
and the direction of my path,
then tearing ass with the steering wheel,
to divert my course away from icy waters,
The world may turn, and the sun may burn,
and my death may not be anything more
than a couple of lines in the back pages of the Herald Sun,
But I was alive.
Wild, raging and screaming,
with the proverbial grenade in my hand,
as the enemy overran my bunker,

and I have felt.


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