A deck of playing cards, four suits, thirteen cards each, fifty-two card pick-up.
Damage done to a child is irrevocable, creates the conditions...
everyday I wake up, I pour this consciousness back into my body,
creatures of habit act tirelessly not to change and not to allow change,
kill him, kill the Buddha when you meet him at home, in your dreams, in your mind,
obviously, childhood is innocent, those games children play is mere fun,
for instance, fifty-two card pick-up doesn't mean: power differential.
Create the conditions to build character, strength, honesty and goodness,
as a child, I saw hell, I lived with dysfunction, it colored my worldview,
right now, I could have been a great leader, instead of an utter failure,
disappointment spirals out of control, childhood is a dangerous place,
silly people do harm, they act out of distress, imbalanced dynamics.
No jokers, no jokers, no more blind idiots who do harm as a game,
only at fifty-two, do I now realize pain and the damage done.
Join me in picking up the deck of cards, all alone in this world,
of course, they made this clear, crystal clear like a vase, an empty vessel, mind,
kill him, kill the Buddha, this mind is the Buddha, we are all the Buddha,
everywhere, everyone has the capacity to awaken from dreams,
reality, a dream we create together, collective unconscious,
still, I pick up the cards, my older brother laughs, time is but one moment.
