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The impending darkness angers my tired soul,
As my shaking hand pays the devils's toll,
My only true drug is sleep deprivation,
As I can't find a travel agent to book my mind's vacation,
When most are sleeping I feel alive,
It's the only time I can leave this world behind,
My body still aches from the night before,
with a vague recollections I cannot restore,
I stare out the window at the world below,
It's enshrouded in darkness and darkness I know,
Through the years I've made improvments everyone can see,
But during that time I learned I can never fix me,
Some things in this world are mean't to be broken,
So I reach in my pocket for one last token,
The devil nods with an approving grin,
As I start down the path of worldly sins,
Suddenly I stop dead in my tracks,
Because I realize I didn't leave breadcrumbs to lead myself back,

Matthew Ray Grode

This poem is Copyright © grode