1.
Pen and paper, keyboard and hand; using these I flee, from my awful abysmal reality
Troubled I am
Most days, no one accounts for my existence, not a knock on the or even a useless piece of post
Troubled I am
Left to think about all the horrors I have faced and overcome, none more harder than losing My Mom
Troubled I am
Love gave Me so little, and stole everything but common sense, here one minute, I was so caught up in it, then like pinch, away it went
This is how I know My very soul awaiting the next dimension with high hopes and an earnest patience
2.
I have no one, I mean no one here who cares if I wake each day so I stopped hoping things would go my way
Toxic, like an alien cloud are the beams of sunlight that consistently try to sneak into my room, into my space...Leave oh corrupting alien
Troubled I am
Sagging skin, a dysfunctional back, I won't win this race; I don't have age's pace or the stealth displayed in each attack.
Held captive to series of unfulfilled emotions and missed opportunities, that build this treacherous feeling of defeat, I don deserve this tragedy
Did no one at all think I deserved my Billy Elliott or Lion King victory
Lips as sweet as Jamaican Julie Mangoes in Summer, spread their juices through my veins, I can't hold on any longer
Praying for that 'aint-gonna-get-here' miracle, that massive Lottery win
Watching it happen for everyone bastard else, My heart says I should give in
3.
Troubled I am, because for once in My painful, tortured existence, I shouting and begging please give Me 'My Day'
To turn the world on its head, clear away all evil, leaving only good people all wanting and willing to build a better humanity
Pleasurable Utopia has my eyes dry and the most impressive smile on my face that could be seen by the mind's Eye
Trouble I was, now the impossible has made been possible, and I run through a field filled with electric daisies
Pain flees, to its knees its brought by My first crisp clear Blue skies.
Troubled I was, Free now am I. Anxiety & Depression had there final session, their verdict; the Boy is Free to Fly.
[End]
About the Creator
Andrew Little
Carlton A. Armistad is the pseudonym for Andrew R. Little. I prefer writing under this as it allows me to look at any body of work I complete separate to my personal day-to-existence, and safeguards my relationships and family.
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Comments (1)
Truly deep and filled with a journey from despair to hope. I am doing a feature on your work. Look out for it being posted soon. I love the heart of your creations.