Two Dollar Talisman
Judge Santiago Burdon
I have never professed to know much, although what I do know,
there's a distance between want and need, the road to the destination of knowing is treacherous, plagued with storms, the rain causes your ambition to rust, the wind with sharp corners cuts through your confidence causing your ego bleed, your appetite for want will never be satisfied, your hunger doesn't entitle you admission to take part in the soul feast, you insist no one's pain is greater than your own, you've paid your dues, now fate owes you, but you've defaulted on the loan.
Your want is always a demand, by the image reflected in a selfish mirror, you're damned to keep counting blessings, coming up short, then feeling cheated, out of what was never yours. Still you ask why your prayers go unanswered, self-indulgent wishes are ignored, worshiping the two dollar Talisman, bought at the thrift store, it has exhausted any cosmic goodwill it never had before, turns out to be just another poor choice, as a last resort. if a line between right and wrong ever existed, you snorted it long ago, and conscience you considered an encumbrance, was shed in liability's shadow.
I've lived in life's underbelly, the reward for addiction and a troubled mind, been to places where Jesus was afraid to visit, acting on some drug's bad advice, I learned the less I wanted, the more I understood what it is I need, it rains diamonds on Neptune, and there's blue sunsets on Mars, but what do I know,
I'm just an imitation of me.
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