I AM UNEVEN! by Kevin Orato on Friday
Out here alone in the shifting specks of dark
Still as an undertaker, icy winds against my cheeks
Drawing heavily from a cigarette
That palliative for my troubled brain
As the rolling mist now at it’s thickest
Gathers as shadows at a deathbed
Steeling myself as if for some memorable heroic act
Twinning my fingers amidst moments of irresolution
Hoping for a redeeming miracle while transfixed with indecision
The momentum supposed to inspire suddenly evaporated!
And like one who’s had a disheartening premonition
Of a spirit-crushing defeat looming, I anticipate the worst
Waiting for some inevitable collapse…
I’ve wrestled with troubled dreams
Yet my illusions remain intact
And despite being close to tipping point often
I’m still a fool of my own sentiment
Seduced by vanity and as if thrilled by the regret
That follows failure; I risk my desperately delicate self
No severe change of heart from prior miserable experience
A rising panic of frustration grips me now
An incredible urge to cry on my throat, the sting of tears…
Brooding dejection, blank astonishment on my face, voiceless bewilderment
As I’m caught in a fog of lost confidence, adrift in a sea of confusion
Struggling to rediscover an old authority over the feeble shadow of my former self
A drowning man desperately clutching at a straw, hanging by a string on a cliff’s edge
Hapless! But continuing on the treadmill to oblivion!
Still as an undertaker, icy winds against my cheeks
Drawing heavily from a cigarette
That palliative for my troubled brain
As the rolling mist now at it’s thickest
Gathers as shadows at a deathbed
Steeling myself as if for some memorable heroic act
Twinning my fingers amidst moments of irresolution
Hoping for a redeeming miracle while transfixed with indecision
The momentum supposed to inspire suddenly evaporated!
And like one who’s had a disheartening premonition
Of a spirit-crushing defeat looming, I anticipate the worst
Waiting for some inevitable collapse…
I’ve wrestled with troubled dreams
Yet my illusions remain intact
And despite being close to tipping point often
I’m still a fool of my own sentiment
Seduced by vanity and as if thrilled by the regret
That follows failure; I risk my desperately delicate self
No severe change of heart from prior miserable experience
A rising panic of frustration grips me now
An incredible urge to cry on my throat, the sting of tears…
Brooding dejection, blank astonishment on my face, voiceless bewilderment
As I’m caught in a fog of lost confidence, adrift in a sea of confusion
Struggling to rediscover an old authority over the feeble shadow of my former self
A drowning man desperately clutching at a straw, hanging by a string on a cliff’s edge
Hapless! But continuing on the treadmill to oblivion!
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