My Stand

I walk across the midnight storms I struggle as you lay down and slumber But alas you wake into the embrace Of the evil pentene whose surrounds your grace And as the burdens kisses your lips You carry the baby demons on your hips And if you satisfy your insistences you stance here yet in a trance Now awaken yet you quirm You wander and wonder why you were born The crawling, methodical melancholy comes As the spirits of misfortunes has you drawn I stop and stand before my demons As they beacon and reach beyond the ceiling I scream no one hears, no one cares But I'm born, shorn like a sheep full of wool Now my standing firm I am mentally cool 10/26/17 by James Edward Lee Sr.