Shadows of Reality
The snooze button didn't do nothing to stop this alarm.
I roll over and I'm socked really hard, nostrils are scared.
My husband's breath has unbuttoned death, it's probably SARS
or a bad, ferocious case of halitosis that's gotten to Mark.
Eyes watering leaves my vision's blurred, but widened awake.
I look at Mark, but he looks like Al Bundy's alive in his place.
Trying to shake that vision off with a smile on my face.
Imagine me as Peggy, but even that life I'd embrace.
Our children are still lying in place, snore sounds of tommy-guns blasting.
Then Devan looks at me with crooked teeth like a zombie on acid.
Acting it too, he attacks me like food; I'm bitten, struck on my breast.
He's punched in the head, the other hits me once on the leg.
A Charlie horse follows, they start throwing bottles, I use their pillows as shields.
Only eleven, but Tony and Devan will have blood spilled as they're killed.
Then Mark grabs me and spanks them badly like it's the easiest task,
but Mark's Stan, Tony's Steve and Devan's Haily dressed in drag
from American Dad. I giggle a bit while making their lunches.
I'm going crazy or something in the left side of my brain has malfunctioned.
I make these assumptions, while drinking coffee to refreshen my mind
because Family Matters, but then that massive nerd is stressed through my eyes.
Carl and Eddie Winslow with Urkle next to his side.
They're extra surprised as I laugh loudly like the devil's inside.
It's settled, I'm right. Urkle trips and of course his movement's dramatic.
The whole table falls, plates hit the wall on some, "Did I do that?" shit!
Annoyed and confused, my boys are some fools, but this pattern's insane.
Not just graphics displayed, they're matching the ways and what characters say.
They see me upset, quickly clean up the mess before I get nasty and fight,
but you take the good, you take the bad, that's the facts of my life.
Tragedy strikes with magical sights and my laughter combined
from costumes that's on my guys, Charmed witches have been supplied.
No more scratching my eyelids, but I go take the remote.
Maybe I can put them on channels for my favorite shows.
Then again I should escape all these roles taking place in my home.
I turn off the TV, I'm who's the boss in 3D, just hating the throne.
Breakfasts, lunches, dinners, work and meetings after school.
Running after two funky, hungry, jumpy asses that drool.
Having twins with savage grins, watching a sponge act a fool.
I shouldn't be surprised, they're demonized from the fun of cartoons.
Reality sucks and sometime we all need to imagine some stuff.
Cast in the sun from the creation of shadows dreamed up.
Within the darkness, there's no reflection to laugh, love and hug.
Which acts as a drug; a happiness blunt, without that we're all fucked.
Topic: Everything we see is a shadow cast by that which we do not see.
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