I scatter thoughts of life like muddied pieces on a puzzle board,
puzzled for the form they shape deforms into some garden snakes.

With cloudy eyes like foggy pearls, skin orange as the scorched sun.
Forked Tongues flicker forth before me but I don't run.
This winter was a cold one, it snowed until I froze.
Stunned I chose a thicker path of bloody thorns and liquor baths.

And I can't decide whether to step outside
or remain inside of my insane asylum.
these sensations climb into my brain
that's idled
And the game's a cycle,
Where the pain recycles,
In this play recital,
With a painful final.

It's all unknown.
Now I'm alone!

And smoking dope has got me thinking,
that maybe life's a silly joke
plus jack and coke is all I'm drinking.
While I fit my coffin, coughing blood
Spitting often, awful, choking.

A muddy throat with soaked airways
Is suicide the answer?
Do I ride to transfer trains or hop off at the nearest station?
Because battling my brain will just sustain that clear temptation.

Everyday I wake up wishing I would stay asleep,
Everyday is struggle in a playground of complacency.
Complaining on to no end in ears of other broken spirits,
I wrote this poem sober so my soul could finally hear it.