Would you rather be a sailor-
At war with the waves
Unshackling latches
In a slip-slide craze?

Or sitting at home
At war with a controller
Mashing buttons all day
Until Sephy's Supernova?

What is wrong with you
Where is all your passion?
What happened to you
In that time, with that crap, when

That fat, zealous demon
With blonde-tinted hair
Pushed you further down
Into your seat and your chair-

-What the hell happened to
The boy who I once knew?
Whose unafraid, underage eyes
Fought the odds for truth?

What happened to being
The one so out-of-hand,
Always on the run
With the hidden, upper hand?

When did you give up
Why did you stop fighting?
Why did you start dosing
With more drugs than insighting?

What made you become
What you fear that you are now-
An all-afraid, all-the-same
Lame and milked-out cow?

Can you not remember
Can you not go back-?
To grabbing that still-holding dream
From stampeding horseback?

Can you not run ahead
With your head held up, high
At war with stars and Gods
Instead of the clouds in the sky?

Why can't you do this..?
Instead you just persist
Holding it back like it
Takes too much damn grits

…Well if it were true
Then would you be writing
A poem of this form
Or this message that you're fighting?

It's because you have just
To believe in but one-
One tiny thing to hold on to
And you've never not yet won