Losing ground
Helpless to continue
PTSD has got me…
Despite the money spent
Can’t find love
or even pay rent
Life’s intensity
becomes too much for me
Tides of abuse, turn
changing pain to misery
Every action
transaction is suspect
Being played, from cradle to grave…
Might as well be engraved
troubled man…
Tattooed teardrop in my face…
All hope of escape,
cut off at the root,
Capacity for love, erased
In fact, kidnapped
and turned
Adopted by the enemy
Taken to extremes, sliced
Diced and spliced
The mantra of the soul force
Reduction to a meme
Lost in translation
twisted in ways obscene
Misread
partially heard
misspoken
Its essential elements subjected
To nightmares, lost fragments
From the
King’s dream
A token bent, beyond recognition
Beat down by loss of faith in life
For multiple generations
Marked by continuous strife
Abandoned and left
A broken
man
C2