There are times I lie awake in the middle of the night.
Where my thoughts conduct a symphony of my past.
As I shed a tear of fear for what is coming next.
I hope for the best as I say to express.
To express I must confess that I am afraid.
Afraid you ask?
Afraid that my thoughts may manifest into a monster that is consumed to the dark side I call myself.
Monster tis am I.
A monster I must be for who could ever love this fiend?
A fiend who tries to do right, but is damned to follow a never ending cycle.
I am defective.
For what shall we call this monster?
Eight letters make a name.
A name that labels the identity of all who know me.
The identity of me is an imposter to the name that came.
I am not all bad you see, for I recycle, and I may not be homicidal.
The worst of me is when I lie awake at night, and my mind turns into a wind up clock of thoughts.
Thoughts that can tear a simple man apart.
The more I am awake the more I find something wrong on the inside.
When I am left in the dark too long, the darkness becomes my friend.
And I'll tell you friend the only thing that will stop the monster I think I am.
Is when the Sun comes up through my window and radiates on my pores.
To remind me once more, that no matter what I think to be. That I am still good inside my core.