like a preacher he talks of God
to a lost flock
around the clock
find him stuck between
a hard place and a rock
throwing upper cuts,
like rock em sock em robots
he was thrown off
his train of thought
by hobo figments of his imagination
imagination of a figment
that's a web of thoughts
more like the downward spiral
he's drowning in a tide pool of fear
of too much beer
and "let's get the **** out of here's"
and he'll be at it for years
like a text message from an ex
reading "want to get together?"
He's someone you'd rather forget
but for all his flaws
and lack of applause
he's up at night
underneath a flickering light
sitting at that desk
pen in hand
head in the clouds
trying to breakthrough