Frosty Paws

Photo by Allie Smith from Pexels

To all the people in silver armors, high end saddles and low end taste

I bow so deeply it cracks my bones. They’re the meanest dragons that I’ve faced.

Too faced – everyone lacks one perspective as they see all the plot holes

And all the ways to get the deal through. Chasing money like stumbling foals.

Frosty paws get stuck on unsafe paths in places where stopping is a sentence

Of life spent is rotating fields of nothing – so you better run from that fake vengeance.

But how come we trust the system after it fools us twice before the alarm starts?

Did we simply nod when they said – you’re the target, circumstance is the darts?

There are 500 ways to write yourself out of the simulation this very second –

How could it be there’s only one narrow line you decided to reckon?

Furthermore, is it pure luck we’re born starving but manage to keep it at bay each morning?

I don’t know a lot about mourning.

But I trust that every fool in shiny helmet who chases money is doomed

As great ideas seldom come to minds very well groomed.

I know a thing or two about getting my frosty paws trapped in grounds

Where you never want to be seen by larger crowds.

It’s cold out there for us who don’t believe in glitz of serving

The ultimate purpose of always earning.

How much are you learning?

-JW

To Stop The Duel

Photo from Pixabay

How did it go from me never settling for anything less

To me being the angriest person you’d meet on a workday

Because of the stress?

How did my pain become a part of someone’s reality

When the only truth I sought was the ability to stop ignoring my alarm

Because of my fragility?

How did my nightmares about failing

Involve into daydreams of bailing

On the life I know – like I didn’t build it, at all,

As if I was someone’s undeserving thrall.

I know it takes two to tango but why can’t I stop the duel

When my feet are on fire, yet numb,

But they keep adding the fuel?

I know it’s my desperation speaking when I have no time to eat

As they munch away on my future and money

But try to keep it discrete.

I know I should’ve pushed harder,

Knowing this tale is a two-parter

And I didn’t have anything to lose back then.

But it still felt like hell when the clock struck ten.

How do we pretend and keep avoiding the questioning?

It is much easier, of course, to ignore the reckoning,

But is it promising?

Have we become the jurors and prisons for our own sentencing?

The background noises are quickening, they might become deafening.

Call me when the standards are settling.

-JW