Internal Dialogue

Thinking on a stormy night,
Been a long time since my brain felt right,
Pondering my existence and hideous plight,
Trying to gain back what I had lost,
My sight.
I remembered my past,
And was oblivious to the present,
It was only a matter of repetition,
Before my mind lost sight of its vision.
“Experience aghast”
Yes, sir I am aghast,
For my soul is so exposed,
And the worst I save for last,
That my experience is one of missed decisions,
“but who cares, no one will miss you”.
Well ###$ you,
Impaired vision,
Please accept my resignation,
From your curse of blurry sight,
Your refusal to leave me tonight,
And your denial of what is right.
“There is no hope, you are profoundly ###$”
I agree, I am out of luck,
But what do I have if not hope,
Gave up the dope,
Have been given the rope,
Now it is my choice to hang myself,
Or practice revelry in my life that I am still alive,
And gloat.
I have much to be proud of, life being key,
That I am still alive when no one will miss me,
That I can live as if I am on my own,
And form the basis of my tenants on what I have been shown,
“your experience is a waste, just look at your face old beyond your years, and staind with running tears”,
Well that is the beauty of it, my faithful voice,
That I am young and have yet to die,
Got many years behind,
And yet have enough time to say goodbye.
Rebuilding my life,
Out of the ashes of burned memories,
A cycle of civil strife,
Mean absolutely nothing to me,
I am beyond caring,
And resort to staring,
At others fires,
In an effort to bring myself higher.

"...on some empty canvas!"