I cannot tell you
about the project
that has consumed
my life
or about the pain
that has forced this path

I cannot tell you
about the evil
that is kind-of
real
and that coats
the world and its sounds
you are too young to deal
with all that

I cannot tell you
about the crimes
I have seen or the blood
that’s been spilled
for no good reason

I cannot tell you
who I am
or where I’ve come from
You are not ready
to hear

I cannot tell you
anything
except that I hope
the Good for you

This world is not real
And this time is not happening
and we none of us
ever did exist

you walk around the park
you hear the birds in the trees
you understand the world you’ve been given
but it isn’t really here

In time you will see
that nothing is here
and no one exists

In time the truth will
build up
on the back of your thought
and you
will not be able
to resist knowing

But for now
you’re just kids
and you need to play
and take it easy
while the God
catches up with you

This is not a threat
This is not a promise
These are crib notes
in case sometimes if feels
like
you don’t know
how to deal
with the rains
that fall
and that seem
real
They are not