What is it that keeps me going? What is it on my face that keeps me from showing? The wind rushes through me and keeps me from slowing.
There is a knoledge inside that honestly keeps me from knowing. There is a drive inside that keeps me going.

I am not sad and yet I am not happy.
And sadly there is no definition to define my state of mind but I would gladly let you peer inside.
There is no certainty that anyone reading this would care but it doesnt stop me from stripping myself bare.

I am often distracted by the calamity outside my door and it is certainly something I wish I could ignore. But here I am beating against it like the waves constantly keep beating against the shore.

I wake the day with folding hands. I strive everday to be a better man. But I am this wretchedness wondering through life without a plan.

It has been along time since I have expressed how I feel. I have put off my feelings because they dont look good on me. And still I circle back like a wagon wheel.

I hear the rythm and I assimulate it in my soul. I pretend I am the only one to make myself feel whole. I am like stagnate water forced to roll.

This is the part of me only my readers will see me show. The corpse covered in make up to conceal the man I am. The man I only know.

-RSC