I don't take risks, I can't
I only have enough, for today
I know what losing costs,
Coins rolling away, no moss
a gathering, this or any way.

I walk at the fringe and look in
I see in the reflection, of the mirror,
my weakness, my resolve has stress-
fractures, my life a poorly played chess
match, if only, my head were clearer.

I need fresh air, let me out, of this box
so much refuse to trip on with shoes,
feet not mine that I hide with black socks,
the only hazard is me, you best take stock
and remember don't regret what you choose.

Pass me a glass
with a splash
of red, dry plum
fruit with peppered
notes, my nose so
tainted, I would
not be a taster
but a waster of
delights, ...
well maybe not,
of all delights.