55. Freezing Chuck Saves

Sailing alone to the sounds of the moth
I stand aboard the only one made of cloth
Soaking in the liquids like a dry sponge
I keep asking if anyone is willing to take a lunge.
Desceased is technically, I.
Walking the path I have chosen,
Bound and obliged.
Forever high via the intricraces
Of often bought medicine qunatifications...

Forever high
Never lie
Explain to the boy
That knows not why.

Reclused and abandoned; I wait
Sitting in silence is all so fucking quaint
A loner; never meant to be a stoner
Giving oneself a permanent coma.
Only I, me, myself
Can change my ways, yet
I have fallen in the puddles.
The acquiescant follies of
Ones youthful Jollies

Forever high
Never Lie
Explain to be boy
That knows not why

Why his father is gone, and you are no more
Life now for him is an abandoned chore;
Seasonal abhorance
Liquid currency.
The way we plan things
Are never the way we hoped;
Forever more.