I'm no one of note
Just a mediocre bloke
Your run of the mill common folk,
Shiit kickin', suburban cowpoke
Someone not even I would pretend to promote
Dreamscapes often bleak and remote
You probably do what I don't,
Can do what I can't,
Will do what I won't
Sunk my personal rescue boat,
Fleeing the scene,
Trying to free myself from myself with little hope
Got caught up in a well known insecurity mote
The dangerous cesspool where the mindless float
Where I often mope
You might think that's the conclusion,
But nope
You'll know when
This story's about to end
At the first mention
Of the proper tension
For a danglin' hangin' rope

©2024

In the substance of my dreams
I saturate
Dopamine drives my depth
I draw my dreams
From the subatomic plunks
The eternal fountain of rest

Cognition failure
The source of my imbalance
Loosens my fall to flight
I attempt to pull to the surface
With all my diminishing might

Here the puzzle pieces
Somehow seem to fit
Paralyzed but for rem
My waking body starts to twitch

I gasp and hold
As it quickly slips away
Random samples left in my mind
Only a couple pieces stay

Power stood, but strength fell
A capacity to fear, but no more burdens to build,
The forlorn of a daughter.
While fault became honey, sweetly puréed upon the flesh I wore,
The drought of one’s character left dry this flesh.
Sticky and shriveled, was my existence.

———————————-

No conquest could restore, dignity or integrity,
The forlorn of a daughter, lost to the hunger of confectioners.