Shocked, by the thought of myself,
I drink, and put it all on hold.
Dismayed, with the strength of apathy,
I cry, for the memories I've sold.

Hurt, by the pain of others,
I feel, their angst just as mine.
I wish, for the pure light of focus,
to see, my path to search and find.

Loved, yet not which sates my heart,
I wait, for that day in years from now.
When, I laugh that I ever worried,
to think, I'd die alone somehow.

Worry, is a friend that comes to visit,
and dark, is a thing that shines so bright.
The muse, though numbed is fiercely kicking,
my pen, gives it birth into the light.

Shocked, with memories of myself,
I drink, and plan for the time to come.
Dismayed, at the clarity of answers,
I cry, for the hopelessness of some.