People are like a Disease (Poem 04/18/2026)

People are like a Disease,

Your relationship with them,

has to run it's course...

People can give,

You have to give them more,

You have to buy them out...

Out of your life that is...

Because behind every gesture...

Lies mal-intent...

It's not what they do,

It's why they do it...

You wonder if they really are a true friend...

In the end...

Behind every playful gesture,

An evil scheme is derived...

Behind their smiles, their generosity...

Knowing is half the battle,

Because you have to delve deep,

If you feel your spirit die...

And when you end up giving more, 

Then they give, or take...

You realize after being burnt,

Your mind and body, 

Especially your heart it can break...

People are an illness can't you see this clear...

Especially when you reached a point of purity...

A disease that comes and goes,

Losing your sanity is something you do fear....

An illness that keeps coming back...

With each so called friend,

You meet so many of these people,

More than life will ever intend...

You meet them down the way....

Down a road, on a pathway to Hell...

Like a slug under a rock,

A gruesome thing,

You can ever tell...

Their ideas are skewed and deceitful,

Because they don't like what you do, or say...

With every kind gesture,

They wave their wand...

Dispelling what they they think is not natural,

or what they think isn't Ok...

But what they aren't aware of,

And what I have to think and say...

Is that beyond your own social evils,

I'm on to your every scheme, move, and play...

Your drama, your theft, your nuances,

Of discourse...

You hide it well,

In subtle contempt...

Hiding your darkness, 

And your negative life force...

Because something isn't right....

I'll just play you out of my life...

And let nature take it's course...

Steadily, and patient...

Til there is nothing left to give...

I'll move on to better pastures...

You're just disloyal, 

Unreliable...

And a pig....

(I won't let you win,

ever over my soul,

You can put my hard work,

On the hot burning coals of a stove...

My work is material,

But my output is what is true, and important...

I'll move on,

Because consciously hurting innocence,

Will always be unfortunate....)

It takes it's toll...