Done. Finished. It’s Over.

Too many Indians and not enough Chiefs. Whoever thought that this was a game should rename this poem. ‘A Shame’ this whole f***ing thing is inept and inane.
And I am not insane. Just a pain. In the a** want me to lend a hand? Just ask. My current task is to learn to listen, be more patient and be more hopeful about the future. Who or what is in control here? Is there such a thing. Have wings will fly. In your minds eye is the magic still alive? I declare that I am on the road to nowhere. I don’t care who was there and who saw me smash that neon light. Despite this complete and utter crap that I am writing. I am still in the fight for the right to survive. If the Bee Gees ring a bell.. may that bell ring loud and true and in tune with the rules that define our world. I guess that’s why they call it the ‘blues’.