RMC

Tattered soul of mine,
how you call to me pain,
you make me as if no spine
can be found in my name.

Is this breathing vessel
full of breaking lungs
and disjointed limbs
full of something fun?

My mind is a faction
and it plots against me
in incrimamental fractions
to digress to an aged sea.

Vast is my knowledge,
a curse it is to practical dreams
that some things don’t die
and those things rage against me.

The sea is vast as well
as far as I can tell I am okay.
But what I don’t have is hell
so I ponder everyday its sway.

I have feelings I have blood
coelecessing a narrowing stream
where soon my memories
will become an endless dream.

I want life free from constraint
as I once did in a life now faint.
Just a man I can be haphazard
looking for white doors to paint.

Black is what I address the rest
as I carry on menial tasks.
Red is a passion put to a test
as at my life seduction it asks.

Just a man I am feeble;
drawn by hollowed out eyes
that have seen scores of
people and audacious lies.

Down a hole I find myself
for I will be here again one day.
I want memories I want a self
full of vigor and wild ways.

Just a man of years I seek
to revel on a beach of beauty
quaint and silently meek
I want to have purpose and duty.

Let me think out loud
they are just emotions full
of colorful little clouds
some dark and some beautiful.

Beauty fades away as all do
and the dust and sun are shrewd
victors of mother nature true;
but there is a God and my soul too.

Shall I dance against the grain?
Yes maybe that street is sane
to the left side of my brain;
let me exude true feelings vain.

It’s all I can do now but
I am just a man torture please
leave me I don’t want games
with others to taunt and tease.

If this is real tell me stories
of where your from and going to.
I have stories myself so let’s
together make one not so blue.