Renegade Reality

Stuck in a feeling, bring up this rearing. Follow suit, or get the boot. Caught between places, there are too many faces. Don't know how to ask, my needs are in a flask. Break the glass, and its all just wasted. Keep it shelved, and forever not tasted. Sickening my self to sleep, if that ever comes, I will try to keep. Gorging in this cunning proposal of weary sky, I look to the birds, and wish to fly. Still counting sheep alone, the dark one in the herd won't ever see his home. "Enough of this madness!" I tell myself, rambling my thoughts, scrambling to fight a battle not fought. I look to the shelf, the books not placed, it could all fall down and be a disgrace. Going back and forth pacing my eyes, I am a man of my word, yet always in disguise. I seldom ask for help, sleep is for the weak, I care too much and that is what I speak.