Spartans Must Eat Well

Veggies.
They’re quite healthy for you in case you’ve forgotten.
I get it,
It’s hard to remember that when you’re in front of ice-cream cake,
Lasagna,
Pasta,
Maybe a hot dog with ketchup,
Onions,
And a whole lot of Vodka!
But…
Stop!
And,
Smell the roses.
Or,
Should I say,,
Stop,
And,
Smell the peppers toastin’.
It’s all a matter of how you choose to fix the plate you could afford to cook through and through.
It’s true,
Though.
How hard it can be.
When you’re given crumbs in a world with enough to pass around to everyone in a slump,
Receiving cans of beans while others plot at home over a fancy feast.
Cling!
Most hear when they clock out of work in an attempt to survive the madness.
Cling!
A few hear when they toast over bigger cash-ins.
Cling!
Everyone on both sides listen to when the church bells ring to their overwhelming sadness…

Because,
Money doesn’t make a single soul feel better as much as allowing your bitterness to fester,
All because another has more than what they couldn’t handle behind that smile hidden on their bedroom dresser.
Whether it’s a set of makeup,
Apparel with a slick appeal to a character they’ve made up,
In delusions not of grandeur,
But,
Of fame for attention they could never get for being too afraid of,
Dancing with their skeletons in front of all these fake fucks…

Oh,
Pardon my language!
I can get a bit carried away when I’m dealing with masked individuals.
They end up being liars after acting like your ace in a hole they were digging through for you to slip through,
While you struggle in a fight that isn’t yours to begin with.
Who?
Ends up being thrown to the wolves is,
Never who began the fire,
Just,
Everyone who’s left inside fried by the flames sparked by one’s desire to see you fall.
In a mist of ash,
Of all things,
For a high received from the stench of your dead dreams rotting on the asphalt…

Kind of like me riding on this A train,
Most likely late for work.
A road to success split by a fork for anyone hungry enough to endure the amount of hurt,
You have to eat when it is served on a silver platter.
At the end of that path straight ahead,
Where a silver spoon is found within a war-torn spirit gathered,
Back into what it once was…

I was just dumb enough to stray away from what was leading me into greener pastures…
For the kind of green leading to disaster.
The kind that’ll crisp your dreams into ashes after burning out from all the weight on your shoulders…

Otherwise,
I wouldn’t have to deal with a slim possibility of being late,
Now would I?
My ride would be smoother.
If I wasn’t busy twisting things over the wrong way,
I would’ve enjoyed our fruits of life a bit sooner.
Silence rather than a high that’s,
Bound to crash louder than you’d expect it to be while you do worse,
And worse,
Until there’s nothing left of you in the world of Doom you’ve created for the roots you’ve unearthed beneath yourself…

All that’s done with every joint lit up?
Your true self incinerated by the pain that lies in two palms that are sick of waiting,
For your heart to decide what is inspiration,
To a life,
Like all others,
Given its date of expiration.
A moment destined to be!
Regardless of every attempt to cheat death venerating demons most likely scared of mine!
Or,
Any of its kind alike.
Especially,
While influenced by monitored sedation…

Wouldn’t you agree?
When’s the last time you took a stand for someone who couldn’t make a mile to pond to drink?
Or,
Speak for a waning voice going horse after screaming for hours trying to stabilize a mind full of dark memories you yearn to erase?
Because,
For the last year I’ve been alone.
With gritted teeth,
Getting closer to skin and bones as a former three-hundred pound monster…
A spartan by nature through greasy behavior!
But,
As each day became rainier,
I was left without soldiers.
Just,
A heart as cold as a glacier,
With arrowheads impaling me as I laughed at Death as my savior…

Yet,
The greatest of them fall.
A savior will never earn that title until death does them part from ash piling up from the flame in your eyes,
Eviscerating faith,
Not your faults…

My only thought to myself is,
Why wasn’t I caught as others witnessed my fall from selflessness?
Grace?
I get it!
Being hellbent with rage I’d expect to be left on an edge until I’m well-spent,
Encased in a put I was promised to be lifted from.
Thing is,
I’m not the blame for promises others couldn’t keep as I’ve slipped into,
An abyss with whom,
Insists I’ve been misused as I’m resurrected and lifted to…

A place where I can spit with love!
And,
Change what’s common for most of us that are hit with tough situations we thought we’d never be in…
In a world forcing our plate regardless if what’s on is not in season…

In the end,
We all need to eat.
And,
It’s better not being bitter when you need to spring into action.
So,
Yea.
Veggies are a must,
Along a cool breeze on a warm,
Sunny day calling for an ice-cream,
The sweetest Sundae!
Even on a Monday morning…

Maybe,
We just need to know how to balance both before everything goes up in smoke,
Mourning what we could’ve been…