Toby Squid

Exists in many forms

Rarely satiated

Rarely disciplined

Always being fed as if life may end

The sense of reality blurring

Avarice

Poverty

Abundance

Gluttony

Extremes that tip the scales

But did you know its only in your head?

Quality of taste is like comparing waste to wine

Offensive and lacking the Divine

Or finer than red wine

Music of the spheres heard in silences

The visceral

The blissful

The raging

The programming

Music industry rots the mind

Do not follow trends

Save yourself from perverted men

Listen to music of goodness

Save your soul from drear

What you listen to goes with you

Into the life thereafter

Consumerism

Avarice

False kindness under the guise of innocence

The ignorant bliss of a violent past

Selective participation

Amassed junk

Gluttonous folks and parades of folly

Cheer up, be jolly

Genocide happened yesterday

Slavery is somewhere else

Debt is always around

Just be happy

Materialistic

Sadistic

Always hungry

Wealthy and yet Impoverished

Torn

Commerce

Consumerism

Debts

The body count rises higher

It is the chess game of kings

Empire versus empire

But secretly

They are in it for sport

We are only pieces

Crying put loud

Here is a tissue

Dump out all your trash

Sort out your issues

Cry some more

Get ready to let go

We don't need to be sentimental

If it's junk, throw it out

When you keep, goes with you

Do you keep a drawer full of sadness and dispair?

Would you rather keep learning and wisdom?

Do you even know what is there?

Deep in your soul

Is a library

It is within the tree

It is a tree

Yet most people cannot climb it

At least not without help

Cry a river

But get up and climb

Reach up to heaven

Sectioned off

Sorted or not

Our minds have rooms

Many have limited access

Some have no door

Some doors are locked

Keys are missing...

We live, disheveled or orderly

How we live is reflective

Is it by our choosing or are we in denial?

Most are living out scenes from media and movies

Disjointed

Out of whack or stifled

Who is really in control?

Who is really living?

Is free will just a byproduct of commercialism?

Who's will are we really living by?

Is life really ever your own?

The questioning

Seeking

Some doors open but rooms are dark

Some have the light

Most do not

The monsters hide easily

But for the illuminated

Appear as real as you and me

We have our senses

Our thoughts and beliefs

In most dreams we have an enemy

It is us verses them

Fantasies born from the mundane

To combat the evils of everyday life

Yet we dream within a dream

Imaginations made slaves to the unseen

When we wake up, we're still sleeping

When we sleep, we're close to death

Those who really know are blessed

They have the keys

Unlike the rest

Who sleep beneath false skies

I let my dreams take flight....

As much as it hurts to live, we have to fight to make the good dreams come true.

Succumbing to the ills of the world is the same as selling your soul to the devil. You think it doesn't matter until you find yourself clawing toward a closing door.

People everywhere hurt. Many think that creating more hurt will ease the pain but it is like a drug. You do it more and more, but you feel more miserable that before and each time you lose a piece of yourself.

No need to self abuse either.

We are in human form. We are fallible. Yet it is in the power of individuals to change for the better. If more people change to become more loving and kind people, like dominos, we can see a chain reaction. More people become motivated to change.

Imagine a world where suffering does not exist because everyone finally sees themselves more clearly. A world full of beautiful things. Magical and pure.