It Is What It Is Move On
It is what it is…move on.
And how do I move on?
Even Warriors like Dusty, the 50 Caliber,
Are gone.
.
And there's no magic.
There are no hat-tricks,
For the walking dead,
Like the Stanley Patricks.
.
.
It Is What It Is…Move On
Move on.
There’s nothing to see here.
The shroud of confusion,
Is perfectly clear.
.
It’s another smoke screen,
And how do we get clean,
Realizing the realization,
We’re cogs in a war machine.
.
Separate the ardent crusaders,
From the vicious invaders?
Get the word from the top,
But wear your hip-waders.
.
Wars are easily fought,
As a coin is tossed.
And isn’t all lost,
When the lines are crossed?
.
“Who won the war?”
The rich man did.
He sacrificed,
The poor man’s kid.
.
Move on.
We appreciate what you’ve done.
Now let’s make some room,
For another one, another one, another one…
.
Nothing to see here,
Nothing to hear here.
Nothing to be here.
Nothing dear here.
.
We make our own prisons?
Do we determine our worth?
It all “is what it is”,
On the third rock, planet Earth.
.
And it is what it is.
It’s night, it’s day.
And why is, “I love you”,
So difficult to say?
.
It’s hot, it’s cold.
He’s timid, she’s bold.
And why are tongues,
So hard to hold?
.
Excess baggage,
Can weigh like boulders,
Magnified by memories,
On tired shoulders.
.
It is what it is.
Rinse and repeat.
You are what you are.
You are what you eat.
.
We all love animals.
We are all as one.
Some like them free.
Some like them well-done.
.
As always, “be here now”.
This is the realm we’re living in.
I’ll dangle participle before principle,
But moving on doesn’t mean giving in.
.
Move on. Move on.
Nothing to see here. Nothing to know.
Don’t resist. Follow the flow.
But the current has an undertow.
.
I’ll be what I’ve been.
I was what I was.
I am what I am.
No reason. Just because.
.
Move on. It is what it is.
Why does the brain need a crutch,
And isn’t it a product,
Of loving too much?
.
So… it is what it is.
It’s the realm in which we’re bound.
As we search for truths,
Already found.
.
It is what it is…move on.
Will we reap what we will sow?
And though it seems we’re late to go,
Be here now. Be still and know.
.
.
~Micky Dee~
.
