Home grown,
Alone in a city; lightless
And lifeless
But my memories priceless

Homegrown,
Far from you and
Far from who i came to be

Put the Art in Artificial
And struck the initial
Blow at the old me,
Inadvertently

And as my past passes away
I regret my present self,
It ain't really a gift
The cards were poorly dealt

Appropriately, im the dealer
The irony makes it clearer
That the life i chose goes
No where, this cul de saq.

This total lack of whole
Mirrors my solemn soul
Heroes are painted gold
But im rusty, i should fold

Enlightened of the darkness that surrounds us all,
We stay hidden from the light
To protect us from our fall
Greatness wasnt meant for us
And thus we are ashamed
To be living in a life
With no one else to blame
For the emptiness inside
Dark, this black scar
Makes us believe in nothing
While we watch the stars from afar

We accept our final fate
Our hope strung at the gallows
Everything looks brighter
When you stand in the shadows

It amazes me that it took until the last minute of my life-
once lived and defined by the sorrows and my strife,
While I stand below the gallows (at least not by a knife)-
To realize my merits and that my spirit, eroded by my pain,
Was yet still gleaming, and my heart beaming
Though i was about to die.

Yet i stand here above the rest of you, on a stool that i earned;
Below a fitted noose, looking down.
And i see the jealousy in your eyes because you know I've won.
All along, held inside me was the greatness i never felt
And the death i once pondered-the one i sought- was never dealt.

I've come to my ending
Guilty of being grim
Charged with ungratefulness
And convicted of having sinned

Though in the end all that matters,
Was that i fully lived
Though only for one last minute
Ive no more reason to misgive

As the wreath hangs about my neck
I look once more upon your face
I chuckle as i fall
And smile before i brace

Sincerely,
The Merry Hangedman