“Distill”

By A Poem Guy

Wandering and wavering,

I am full of black.

The disease of insecurity,

Of hatred and conformity,

Heavier than lead: uranium.

How I wish I could leave it behind,

Float into the clouds

Like a pixie to air,

But there is a ceiling to the sky.

They don’t want me to leave.

Just like a moth to a flame,

So many seek joy,

But a trap over the candle

Doesn’t let them back out.

Rat traps were made to kill the rat.

As I fall back down to earth,

I feel pure,

But my dreams and ambitions,

Were lost with the black.

I am light,

Yet distilled defenseless to might.

As I account the last dream I had,

I worry I lost too much.

I’ve given up so much when I could’ve just sat.

Maybe full of sadness,

But full of me.

Joy is fleeting,

Many times designed

To hold you there

Till sick and dying,

Don’t fear the sky,

But please understand,

That it is there,

To keep you trying.