It’s Not Real in Your Hands

-It’s Not Real In Your Hands -
by Keaton Foster



Hold tight
Forget outright
If need be
Blame any disease
Pick your poison
And stick with it
Significant
Is your lack of attention
Justifiable to you
Is such dereliction
Running on cruise control
Taking you where to go
Anywhere, any means, and how
Personal matters of preference
It’s not real in your hands
Everything is just an illusion
What’s life, a forgone conclusion
Lost before it began
The wave of all things
Slamming you in the chest
Kicking you in the teeth
Waking you up to face
Reality for realities sake
I understand that it hurts
It always does and will
God knows what he’s doing
Such an unrelenting bastard
Of every cause and effect
Slumped over suffering
How much more can you take
Not that much I suspect
How could I even discern
How could I possibly relate
Because
I was there before
Many times be assured
I won’t ever go back
Transcending the idea
Of what it means
To have little to no control
Instead of following others
Right off that cliff
Instead of where you are
I’m right here
On the outside
I’m looking in
Observation
Disguised as
An unwanted gift
My twisted dance
Of both the mind
And of the spine
Never letting me rest
A mountain of peace
Is truly what I wish
But there are only stones
Upon the ground at my feet
The smallest pieces
Of something unobtainable
No matter how much
I pile everything upon itself
I will still be left
With nothing greater
Than a pile of stones
It’s not real in your hands
So make your choices
And live with them
Always do what you must
Despite and without regard
For anyone or anything else
I will observe your change
The tedious nature of your ways
I will let everyone else know
Such a case of self-destruction
Should not go unnoticed
Or undocumented
I’m proud of my ability
To paint pictures of people
That I could never be
With a steady hand
And a wide brush
I add to the canvas
No detail escapes
But these words for you
May seem to be a waste
The question you’re asking
Certainly
Clearly
Without hesitation
Is this poem about you
Or is this poem about me
The best answer I’ll give
Is that it is neither about
You or I
It is about us
Two lost souls
One who knows it
And one who don’t
One observer
And one questioner
It’s not real in your hands…


It’s Not Real in Your Hands
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014.