I am at double Four-double Four
Thirty-Fourth Street,
I could use a lift of sorts.
I would like to remain nameless,
my condition certainly is not.

My being seems out of place;
I have tried to keep focused.
The last group of days
have blurred together;
meaning lessens by define.

A bent key, I hold in my hand,
the remnant of a jagged world
unfulfilled by expectation;
of which I no longer fit.
Learned techniques fail me.

I was given this number,
by a caring friend;
said it would lead me
to truthful people.
Deemed credible I choose.

How I have hope, which is never lost!
Without reluctance I continue -
to the recommended anonym auditor;
tranquility listens further
to me