David Allen Miller, Where Have You Gone?

You say you want creation,
And how it's a time for salvation..
Well it's difficult when your nation
Is in an egotistical inflation,
So you're just stuck like a statue in a station.
My writers block causes my destruction.
My anger, pity filled eruption
My empathetic function, my intimate abduction.
And it's all just a juvenile, pathetic reduction.
.[It's lovely. Oh so lovely].
I bite the skin off my lips;
And squeeze the fat off my hips;
Feel internally how my stomach flips
Gradually now, how my history drips.
It drops and drips and oozes from my pits.
Where my bile and my tension sits.
But in the end, there's nothing to gain.
No silver medals or cameras of fame.
Just index fingers pointing blame.
I am nothing, just a name
(erase my face, and forget I came)
I'll forever remain the same
Just a child who's all too vain.
Now you see my narcissism;
My own self destructive terrorism;
I'm not champ of Darwinism,
Just my very own communism.