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The Familiar Face Behind the Hangman's Hood

Daddy Bear

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it's happening again

the downward-rushing trend

bombarded by the mind's unceasing tricks


an altar to myself

but craving something else

approximately ninety-eight point six


i make a fist, and i jam it in the wall

the plaster yields, yet it soothes me not at all

evolution must have somehow spun out of control

all that i can do is make a hole

it imitates my soul


my self-assurance sags

enthusiasm flags

the wolves of my denial at the door


i have the things i need

so emptiness is greed

yet i yearn for something--something more


how can it be so, that i lived without a care

and never saw the tragedy behind my mirrored stare

how did i convince myself that i was made of steel

tell me how a dream could be so real

and how could i not feel?


so here the trial ends

convicted and condemned

though every face inside the court was mine


i'll put it to you plain

i was a boy insane

and now i face the music for my crime


for years of wasted time.

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