There is a wise man always right his name is cricket.

Lives every breath with righteous words that flow like a Spicket.

Who are you to tell me what is right I’ll find out on my own.

Too ignorant to face the truth I spend my time at home.

Stuck in a house of my creation built with walls of fear.

Behind the walls I reside yet the monsters were so near.

Locked within beside me a child with great emotion.

Too afraid to go outside to cause any commotion.

Telling me the extents of his memories.

That left scars of great immensities.

It is time to listen to that old man I am tired of living my life like a prison.

My boy you will look up on this day and see you have risen.

Fighting with my reasons but have not moved an inch.

Look over those walls boy what’s the worst that can happen? You may flinch?

Building up courage to look over the walls I can already imagine the claws.

Running through my head all the ways they could tear me open to express my flaws.

As I descended from my high tower.

All I can think about is how I will cower.

Dawning upon the landscapes.

Truly still was no escape.

The beast that intimidate.

Are all to what I create.

Through the journey meeting these beasts with thought they would have a mane.

Those beast turned out like me all the same.

A terrible great soul.

Just looking to be whole.

Locked with each soul resides a child.

Seemingly to mine who is just as mild.

Encountering a boy from Alamut.

Telling a story of following the rules without dispute.

Blindness is not only for those who lack the sight.

But those who lack courage or the might.

To go against the grain won’t always hurt you.

Pain is for those who do not stand strong for their virtue.

Life’s disillusionments are there for you to grow.

For the more you see  The less you know.

Now continue on your path even if you do not have the time.

For you ignore your virtue under stress is a crime.

Making it to Life's Mountain crest.

Surly put me to the test.

When down in the valley.

It is the best time to rally.

Giving thanks to the water.

You have it as you please with a mutter.

To the land of the healthy.

To the beaches of the wealthy.

To the mountains of the oppression.

To the gaps of depression.

I stand before you now listening to the Jiminy cricket.

Rationalizing the emotions of the child who build a wall from a picket.

Understanding the construction of the wall.

In order to build me up tall.

The journey to overcome my mind.

Is what I just defined.

Joseph Bailey