Food on the table is a given but a bribe
Given you can't care past forgotten diatribe.
Might you be serious about regretting past sins,
Since centuries gone, I'll be digging through the bins.
Perhaps it's a lull in your security or lulling of my own,
Only this time it's life or death and I'm already nothing but bones.
Don't you care? Of course you do, considering the why and its when.
When was I ever the person you say I am? You don't see it now; I didn't see then.
Working backwards to progress forwards only works when stars align,
You progress with no progress but a smog-laden "This gold's mine."
Do you mind the gap before you and your son who is nothing?
Digging it deeper, do you find it hard to keep bluffing?
Epping Forest of denial calls you to your home,
Memories of you, your borne mouth of foam.
Damage has been incorporated for so long,
But do I have it all wrong?
Fairness is due,
It's not all you.
Kind is the mirror's others,
And I do have my covers.
Though told were I that "Not justice nor fairness,"
Just not be the demons hidden in my awareness.
Hiding my past to forget the lack of future,
All brought on by the emotional moocher.
Perhaps, due were fairness true,
Allow life to justly forget you.
Should one have to decide between virtue and sin?
Should such acts be more orange and blue, for lack thereof is win.
To forgive under any other name would be instantly true,
But to do so efficiently would render my memory askew.
Give me knowledge: Where to go, what to do.
Give me structure: Days, not nights; I need my rights.
Give me sustenance: Starvation leads to temptation's needs.
Give me peace.
Empty my mind from entropic tropes,
Mind those others who do oft elope.
Get me isolation: Nowt to go, nowt to do.
Get me entropy: Nowt method, life madness.
Get me the weakest: nowt a right to my defence.
Get me, Hell.
I have but four gives to get, and only to stop me
Is a pathway to salvation, unsure yet, unsure key.
Which will it be? Which will I choose?
Scariest to me are things yet to lose.