Mistakes
The mistakes I wield.
To hope I yield.
As if there is a painful tether.
To my wishes I was forced to weather.
This evil without that I was forced to consume.
I later discovered that outside my room.
There were loved ones whispering and whirling.
And I was trapped in this twirling.
I had thought that there was homelessness outside these bars.
But really- outside my delusions is a love made of my scars.
As I look below this hopeless peak.
I do not wish to tumble through an avalanche of bleak.
My family is whole again as they let me crumble.
Into sacrifice, I wish to tumble!
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