I hope you understand
Why I do not believe in you.
From the evidence at hand;
The many things you choose not to do.
I’d vilify a human friend
Who told me like you did
Of how you were watching
Then ran away and hid.

Children keep dying
The poor and the weak too
And you still seem to find
No cause to see them through;
To put clothes on the backs
Of those who are in need.
Nor do you strike down
Those who worship greed.

Your followers tell lies
And expect us to believe
And demand we ignore
Those who suffer and grieve
If they are different
From those in power.
Their speeches all the same
It’s never our hour.

It’s always time for tithes
The bribes they demand
But paying back so seldom
Is ever quite at hand.
It’s always time for us to
Have sympathy and charity
But not for the rich and strong.
Where is the parity?

So, if you create everything
And see the falling sparrow
Why are you deaf so often
Your vision so **** narrow?
It’s been thousands of years
Since your supposed first night.
When will you fix things
And set your world aright?

Could it be, as I always say
That you really don’t exist?
I see no reason to believe,
Thus I must insist;
There cannot be a loving god
Unless he is one of many.
Either way, I fail to see
The proof that we have any.

There are people to miss, we've seen so much.
It's all behind us now.
Everything. A memory.
A branding of chemicals in our cerebrum.
Every millisecond of our so-called existence.
Every heart beat.
It's but a principal of physics.
Maybe nothing more than that?
No?
It's all just it our heads.
We're all just in our heads.
Our heads are in our heads.
Our heads are a myth.
Everything made up by our heads is a myth.
Nothing more,
Nothing.
But what we refer to as,
The big vaccuum.

It truly is that simple; if you want Truth, change your chapter of story. If you want a lie, keep re-reading your past chapters repetitively, possibly driving you insane.

Is anything real anymore,
except all these ******?
I can't help but be skeptical,
it seems like everything is mythological.  

Does anyone know how to feel,
or am I an apple in an orange's peel?
All the talk of this and that,
but none of it is matter-of-fact.

Is this the truth I'm seeing now,
or have I been tricked again somehow?
It seems like we're a new race,
it's different to talk face to face.

What has technology done,
look at what we have become.
All we know are our phones,
it's time to create some new tones.

We need to change,
things shouldn't be this way.
Is anything real anymore,
except all these ******?

I cant help but be skeptical,
it seems everything is mythological.

it's been a long trip since innocence
the distant city of joy
where my tongue believed in candyfloss
my footsteps in lyrics
sugar coated moments wrapped in colorful layers of truth
so many layers of truth

I since took a degree in doubt
they taught me how to earn a living
feeding fear to babies
selling carrots to dinosaurs
how all immortal things
are shiny posters on double-decker buses
running over bridges at night

fantasies are clinging to minds
like fluff to a sticky tape
when church bells ring till death do us part
I sigh, lift my pint and cheer:
another graduating photo.

My consumption is somehow sinful but in a fabricated way that makes honey seem like cyanide, or perhaps just the opposite (, I'm not sure in truth). Delight is suppressed by my self-skepticism working to root out my faithful and trusting naivete. Somehow skepticism gets lost in my incessant wanderings and wonderings and surely in my pensive ponderings. I debate what your truth is and if you have seen the same paintings that hang in my walls and in my memories. It must be acknowledged, the chance that you have forgotten and remembered the entire Nothing. My only prayer is that you might have insomnia.