Trembling. I'm shaking, the whole world is quaking.

My hand holds a gun 

My body loses patience 

Eye to the scope 

I really cannot cope

Darkness in my soul

I just can't control 

Top of a scraper 

In the depths of hell

I'm under a spell

Something called revenge 

My soul's transparent 

I'm chilled to the bone

My business ensures

I won't be headin' 'lone 

A shadow has settled

Just o'er my head 

In just one second

He'll be lyin' there 

Dead

With a dash of mascara, 

light dab of blush,

and swipe of magenta lip gloss, 

I tie the laces of my mud riddled cleats.

With delicate hands folded, fingers interlaced between the jewels 

 I fiercely defend my opinions.

With a skin-tight dress, hair down, spirits up

I grip the steering wheel, eyes on the finish line.

My whole being, as society deems, is an utter mess.

I am a harmonious juxtaposition, nothing more and nothing less.

Wall Street, Mass Media, and Hillary Clinton. All three using their power and influence for a selfish agenda, leaving America in the midst of political corruption and economic ruin unparallelled in all of American History. Wall Street and the few elites who hold the majority of the wealth utilize all of their power to get Hillary Clinton into office. What is in it for them? Well, the 1% of Americans who harness over 40% of the nation's wealth want to keep it that way. Getting Hillary into office ensures the poverty rate to skyrocket as the bottom 80% of Americans earn 7% of the nations income to share. Mass Media, since the 1920's when radio was first introduced, has been a mechanism to influence society. Mainstream media covers Hillary's successes, seldom as they are, as Secretary of State and simply refuses to report Hilary's role in the Benghazi attack, or her utterly unprofessional and careless email scandal jeopardizing the security and welfare of America. The media's influence is not to be underestimated. Wall Street elites see this opportunity and buy out companies to promote a fraudulent candidate. Call it a personal opinion, but I do not want a lying politician controlled by the political elite of Wall Street to run this country into the ground. 

The idea provoked me. 

Jolting my heart with such might, 

yet such simple gentleness

 that I could not decipher what exactly had me 

electrified.

 An emotion foreign to me, 

traveling days 

and sleepless nights 

to a little notch 

burrowed in the pulsating drive of emotion 

destined to stop

 at every nerve,

 every inch, 

every tissue and fiber 

of my physical body. 

Rhythmic tapping of a humming bird's peck 

vibrated the massive sycamore tree.

 The miniscule, velvet-feathered creature 

cracked away its drum line 

against ancient, choppy bark. 

Sap oozed,

hidden crevices. 

Slowly crawling down

time it's enemy 

as the crimson sunrise glistened,

 halting the golden honey into a statue. 

An owl hooted,

 hidden within the rustling of every individual leaf. 

Scraping 

sliding

 composing a melody obedient to the breeze.

 A fox's quick-footed pace raced along

the pads of its feet touching the mossy ground 

at 8-counts. 

In the holding hands of radiantly green leaves, 

mildew dripped into a soft beat. 

The hearts of all creatures 

pumped 

nature's sweet melody. 

The words prick at my toes and knaw on my fingers

It doesn't matter.

They seep through the hidden cracks,

 Burrow in for a winter's stay

It doesn't matter.

I can't keep the cold out forever...

But it doesn't matter. 

I've become too numb to tell