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Poem

And I’ve been strumming all night
Waiting for this pick to strike just the right chord
For me to plunge my soul into a black hole
Strong and timeless, a life with and with out purpose
All is beautiful on the surface
I’ve realized face value is cheap and trite 
So tonight I will be consumed 
By the sounds of madness that have filled this room

I think I’m sick always singing about my impending doom
Sooner or latter I will move towards something greater
But that’s latter on and the song must go on
Selective hearing and my processioned steering
Moves me ever closer to another long night
In this dark and lonely bedroom
And I find it hard to have something important to say
Because it may become cliche, dreams become defeated that way

At first the scale would sway
Giving me some fleeting meaning to pray
Then I realized reality out weighed dreams
And all my great schemes were cheap and trite
But yet an excuse to up the fight 
Now the scale has tipped and failure nips at my soul
I must admit God I was never worthy of forgiveness
But I think I’ve been consumed by that wish 
And its not a gift you can give
Because you already gave some recommendations on how to live
My life is a contradiction and an addiction for fiction
In these words I try to justify my actions
And my attraction to the bottle, which is not to fill my stomach
But to consume my mind in hopes that I will dine on it
Instead of having another fit of humility

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