Try I'm afraid to try and live within the confines of the world today the faces screaming not the minds the howling of the nameless the homeless the hopeless with a bright flash and a clap of thunder it's over back underground you go where you belong with the rats with the filth with the dirt and shit of the world you're nothing we can change you you're not even a statistic you're a ghost a spirit a vague imprint on our figures on our analysis we'll forget you we'll bury you just like we did the rest don't you get it? "You don't try enough" that's what we'll tell them the excuse we spit out when we don't wanna pay let's play a round of chess oh, I'm sorry, it's not your turn it's not your turn it's not your turn it's not your turn always mine you'll never move I'll never let you you're alone as you sit there in your chair all sad and disappointed watching while I maneuver your hand crippling from lack of use "you don't try hard enough" that's what I tell you as I slap your hand away you can't do that you can't do that you can't do that it's not your turn yeah, go ahead and grimace pull your bat out from behind the sofa threatening with a silent scream waving and ripping and tearing and sighing and leaving and loving and loving and living and crying don't you know? It's not over, you see I'm not through with my paranoid trip but the time's almost up we're almost through, we're almost done the end is now the end is now the end is now the end was then it's already over smash the clock look inside your dreams so you can forget that you exist find a little something that you can hold fast onto you know you're dying as you live gotta give one more inch of yourself one more hour one more day your energy converted into pay into food into energy agin and you cycle back again in a daze in a stupor knowing that you're dead inside ‘caus you don't want to just don't want to "afraid to try" too hard - at all
	I wrote this stream-of-consciousness, when I was bored in American history. I wrote the first few lines in the margin of my paper, and just kept going. By the end, it circled all around, and unless I told you the order, you wouldn't have been able to read it. I suppose that it's about how the government bullshits the poor of America, how it's impossible to rise in social "status," no matter how hard you Try. Tell me what you think! Go back to the poetry page.