Am I An Artist?

  (The Story of a Failure) I was an absolute fool, For expecting too much from life. I believed friendships would last, I believed love could be pure, I believed my parents would heal, I believed I could be pure. I thought I could achieve my dreams, But I guess I expected too much… I thought at least one person would understand, But no one did truly understand, Guess I asked for too much, and I got too little. What have I done to deserve a life so brittle? I wanted to experience the vivid colors of life, I longed for the refined, the novel, and the strange, But instead, all I got were scraps and leftovers. I was forced to accept what was given to me and change my essence, Forced to leave behind my sacred dreams and childlike visions. I tolerated people who cared less, I allowed patterns I never should have, I was unreasonably patient with realities that never served me well. And so, I accumulated scars I never should have. The things I loved stayed on the back burner, The things I ...

I am a Man. I contain within me The potential to violate another life. A darkness that could strip away the dignity of another soul. I bind that darkness with my conscious hand, Keeping it in check every time. This darkness takes over when I am pushed to my limits. I am aware of this part of me... This force within me. I bind it with my conscious hand, Keeping my conscience clear and away from the corruption of darkness. What of those men who are not aware? What of those men who can't see their own darkness? What of those men who are not aware, That their masks of appropriateness might slip on a bad day, That they could turn into something hideous when no one's watching? Will they be able to bind their darkness before their hidden instincts kick in? What of those men who choose to live out their darkness? Proudly inflicting pain and suffering on the innocent, Seeking pleasure in violating the dignity and boundaries of another conscious living soul? What of those men? Should the...