Dilemma

I thought I have escaped poverty, But now my mind staves for the street food; That sweet food That binds true friends. As time ebbs on I’m closer to the edge. Now, promise me I won’t lose myself. The dreams come occasionally, But I’m long gone; So distant I can hardly hear my voice. I still talk to myself, Who seems to need the encouragement. Hating the answers I’ve received, But I am my only hope. Do you feel that tingle in your skin And that blackout, When you loss track of things? Have you seen felicity? I’m allergic to this spirit That resides inside my shell. Poverty was easy, But can I evade this hell?