poemism

I was in the shower last night, preparing to go for a night out with my buddies when a thought occurred to me. " I hope Patrick doesn't preach his view on the world tonight and force it upon us."
I have a friend named Patrick. He lived in Thailand for a year, in china for 4 months and is currently enrolled in Asian Studies at a very prestigious university.
My friend Patrick believes he has the answer to life and the answer to any situation involving anything. we all have our owe views on the world and it's contents but unlike Patrick most of us like to discuss these views with other people and share our ideas, a back and forth of soft words and kind metaphors.
Patrick on the other hand likes to force his view down your throat till you become "enlightened"

as a friend of mine would say "he has a very heavy presence" :S
a spiritual snob if you will.

so as i was scrubbing off the dirt from the days work i started creating this mental poem. it was actually kinda cool. i rushed out of the shower, dried myself off and ran to my room. i proceeded to write this poem on the first piece of paper i could find. scribbling away in nothing but a loose wet towel.

i tried to recite it to Patrick last night but he could not hear me, you see he was sitting way to high upon the caterpillars throne asking himself circular questions that bounced down from his toad's stool and hit the rest of us right on the head.
rather frustrating
Here is my poem for Patrick:
(i heart you Pat)

You will not forcibly penetrate my mind with your views on the world!
Holding me down in the bedroom of your consciousness raping my beliefs with your own
I am not helpless tear stained Mary Jane, hopeless after school special
i am Me, Will.C and i can defend my thoughts in intellectual battle of wits on the plains of preaching
if you want me to see it your way
exchanging my eyeballs with yours do it with a subtle story and a kind word
BUT ALL YOU DO is preach your dualism like blaring Nazi speakers, and right there the Epiphany for the worlds wrongness

let me tell you what's wrong in this world patty
it's the Ism's, all the Ism's, the ism's that end beautiful words and twist them into hideous modes of doing forcing them upon us
and hear little miss Mary Jane cry as she is forced to swallow, from various Orpheus's the Ism's of other men,
her body and dress stained with the residues of the ism's
and YOU standing there erect with your dualism
yet in that dark corner no longer helpless Mary Jane crying but me Will.C

Dualism, everything has 2 sides
and me Will.C ready to stand up for my Mary Jane

The only thing getting penetrated tonight is your earth shaped balloon which you state is your view on life THE way of life
you better preach fast before you run out of gas
hear the whooooooshh as your ranting balloon goes through one ear and out the other
DEFLATED