Despite how others see, I’m not a bad guy
ang, God says I’m not 1 of the mannered clean
In my truth, I think myself a scapegoat to the sober
I hate my self more than grave & family by hindsight
‘m locked in a cage sewn shut by crisis after crisis
These bruised neurons search for keys from ego
Never to materialize by twisting of bones
Grant me the will to tend to my end
od, whether it be my soul or garden tilled
Shackled seedlings will rot under my care, sure?
Is it better to nip them in the bud before their fall?
Will the few survive in the wild without care?
Guarantee me joyful seeds will grow wisely
od, make sure 1 sapling will thrive divided
Then will I face manly failures as farmers do
Can I go out like cowboys or braves full of holes
Would I find ways to jam barrels or take a dive?
Strength to toss pistols over Alamo & run
o there is only 1 road muddied by race & farce
Whether I run, walk or crawl through syrup trails
Everyone reaches the finish line fine or ground
Stand still then, the line comes to you even stuck
Better to walk my last stretch stalling for time
eauty in beholding hands for time poorly spent
Waiting for the road to come in a flash, let loose
Who’s laced perfect fingers hold back failures calling
I let go, flashbacks of failures gripping my hands
Letting loose of what’s real, what’s love too taut
ove failures dragging to break dear grips stretched
From this sorry gunslinger, marathon chaser running
With the weight of all worlds like foolish Atlas multiplied
Never finding redemption from the fool, Sisyphus
ever to cross the line, looking back at boulders
At perfect starts, clean slates before parents, skools
And super-stars dimmed by might & right