The Pale

This is the dream I had.

I was going to see her and that would be the trigger for my enlightenment.

but I woke up and there was no sight of it.

So, now I'm bitter from the litter and literally there's no winner in all this.

I'm making it down a tall list.

Methods used to call with.

Why did I begin all this?

I failed to be all with all aware of all this busyness.

I cried too, sat in the dirt thinking I had to die too.

I was but a child so it was child abuse.

I'm but a mild mannered man, now.

With rhymes I chew to fan down these still demanding hands that are clamped down on my neck.

Getting me forcefully to write the next line.

"Move your hand it's time to write the next rhyme".

These whispers are holding up my text line for ransom if I don't continue to reflect the prime.

I'm vexed when complexed in the grime.

Widespread neglect in my mind from family & friends when I hide.

Stories of them when I tried but failed and the trail died in the tail.

Left me to die in the pale.