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Personal Note:
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Poem
Some things change and some things won’t.
Some people care and others just don’t.
The situation I’m in unmistakably changed,
for one I was close to has now been estranged.
I was told when younger to think on my own,
but now it's not something the teachers condone.
One thing that during my time I have found,
is that circular logic, it goes round and round.
So as long as my feet are firm on the ground,
I’m in need of nothing that is so unsound.

With all that I’ve learned, I head off all alone,
leaving all censorship behind me at home.
Started out slow, not a care in the world.
But as I move on and through time I am hurled,
tempo goes up, beats per minute increase.
Soon I can’t take it, I need it to cease.
Not able to stop, no not in the least,
I trudge on like a machine, well oiled and greased.

My actions like a snake, they slowly unwind,
and start on a hunt pursuing my mind.
The snake goes about deploying the bait,
then, patient the predator, lies in wait.
About temptation, one should not linger,
but I’ve taken the bait, hook line and sinker.
Wasting no time, the snake lashes out,
the forked tongue and fangs on a heart bound route.
I listen to the venom course through my veins,
as it makes it’s way on up to my brain.
Once it arrives and inherits its reign,
is when I’ll be left with nothing but pain.

I don't feel the way I’ve ever felt,
inside, my head stings just like a welt.
Abrasion against the strings of my heart,
strums out a tune that's miles from art.
I’ve gone and done something oh so wrong,
for I’m unable to sing, or hum along.

Now in the calm that’s the eye of the storm,
I must find out how to return to the norm.
Opening doors devoid of locks,
I stumble upon a strange looking box.
On top of this thing that I’ve found amongst rocks,
is a line that reads “Opportunity Knocks.”
Now standing before this jack-in-the-box
I turn the crank like a hand on our clocks,
The childhood jingle comes to stop,
as something symbolic shoots out with a pop.

Though am I clueless? No, not so much,
I’m not handicapped, I don't need a crutch.
Ill fated though, it’s a no-leaf clover.
I know what this means: I’ve got to start over.
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