Somewhere between best intentions,
And the way things turn out to be,
I find myself painting it black,
In delirium of how to get free.
Like some professional carpenter,
I've followed iall the nstructions,
Nailed inflections down to a tee.
I've done what I was told I wanted,
Not capable of breaking into me.
Just another chain in the link
That binds me to this earth,
I exercise prudent judgment
Whenever dealt, and re-dealt self worth.
I've painted myself in a corner.
The wet black paint won't dry overnight.
I sit and bemoan in a quandary,
Will it be like this for the rest of my life?
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