The Hooligan

I had crooked ideas, they were almost coiled

Had it been the out gone stories or the sole desire to be undue

However cruel and compassionate these stories might be

Either they justify or unjustify my so call voluntary reflexes.

Stories of an unreal escapade, mostly including homo sapiens

The ones who refused the third leg or were unworthy of it  

These species will ultimately act as though they were diamonds

Diamonds that will create an atmosphere of fear and hope 

Those two were just illusions, illusions that manufacture insecurity

When gone they leave you in a dilemma and well angered.

So many frustrated desires, even the unthought desires

They dwelled imperfectly and intermingled with the culture 

That hurriedly adopted the culture, the so corrupt one

They shall not regret for it only devours your desires

Socially gratified you will be, immediately after the metamorphose

Only because we all live in an unworthily contented society.

I had a choice, or should I say choices

The good, bad and nearly ugly ones

Have they been interwoven into my DNA?

Whatever be I still had a choice, or should I say choices

Thoughts that will seduce you and make you want to give in

They wore scented aromas and the skinniest of smiles

I still had a choice, or should I say choices.

Here they come again only that this season there is a blockade

A blockade of matured desires and dignified notions

Pumped out of me, they were inevitably showcased

Pain and shame, the thrusting strength.