I Could Be Dead!

Once again it’s back to square one,
All by myself late at night,
Back where I belong,
Writing melancholic laments by candle light,
How do I do it and where did I go wrong?
No matter where I go and what I go to do,
I wake up in the same old room,
Dreaming dreams anew,
Was it just a dream all along?
I wish this could be true!
But alas! For this is no dream,
A vision so cold and true,
I wish I could write this to somebody,
But so many I’ve called ‘you’!
How many would take time to read?
Soon many become so few.

I dream dark thoughts,
Through dark nights,
Ghostly ports and gruesome sights,
Of what I think I say not,
For I would surely be left to rot,
In cages behind fences riddled with barb,
Out of sight out of mind;
Locked away with the macabre.

Being back at square one isn’t so bad,
Even if it leaves me looking lonely and sad,
I’ve gained no prospects and nothing achieved,
Over this recent year just gone,
And I assure you it has nothing to do with spliff or bong,
You all should feel quite relieved,
For I could be dead and you all bereaved!