Clear View (Poem)

Brainwashed ethics hide the horrible truth
of what we all long to say and do.

God handed me an apron,
Said, "hey kid, go to work."
And so I went with no regrets
Wandering through memories
On the open faces of strangers
Trying to find the source of true expression.

Wished upon a star,
Only to find an unknown
Luring me back home.

Familiar resources, Familiar living.
Don't scare me with the truth,
Miles is playing,
Let him Jam.

God,
let us all Jam.

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