Poems less striking, As my thought patterns weaken Less sleeping, more creeping, measuring up death and adding up my mishaps. Doubling the moments up where I slipped up or stumbled, Mumbling words as my soul crumbles, Asking myself all questions Suggestions on conceptions of miss-conceptions of pass times. Thinking to myself why? Why be so forgetful Mind stumbling, as my weak stomachs rumbling Crumbling up words, Digesting everyone's verse But not taking in my own I feel like a clone of what I ones was Mixed with satan Contemplating My life being taken, Salvations passed I'm masked Emotions surpassed Feelings never connected Subjected to life's underworld Humanly neglected, true minds speak unkind sentences Testing my intelligence, Rumbling words with no meaning Subsequent healing of the ones I've broke Poetic justice for the words that can't be rightfully spoke Freedom of speech tarnished in my demeanour, Ora diminished by negatives Wanting to make a positive But not putting the will into wanting to live Is subsiding the love I want to give. For the righteous ones. I'm done.