RMC

My life is but a dream,
I take it from day to day.
My mind is so consumed
with what I must do to stay.

Sober I move forward
as I’m mocked to try see clear
the nearness of kind souls
who smile for awhile that control.

The smiles say it’s okay
to be who I am and I thankful
I am a son of decent man
who can see what I do despite
my slights while I try stand.

I persevere and hear them say
they me they will slay
the better part of me I don’t see;
I want to be a better man for me.

For those who know my heart
and know that I care
know my atmosphere is toxic
with bitter logic I am prepared.

For the sin of my soul
I have died a thousand times
in my rhymes that chime
and release my anxiety of time.

I am tired, old and in pain
from the bitter Angels of my past
that have control over my soul
that I try to see past at last.