Trapped in this brazened maze
Of rash insecurities
Lost dreamscape musings and
False identities
Laced with scars and poison of
A detrimental kind
Beaten down and broken in this
God-forsaken mind
Twisted paths and torture find
A child, lost to its sight
Succumbing to a deathly will
And nightly mid-day frights
Tip-toeing ever slightly through a
Downbeat trodden lane
Witnessing the rebirth of
Life, now lived in vain
Chosen are the many who
Understand the few
And through the choices of the making
None will ever do
A nightmare landscape drawn into
A crayon matinee
Ethereal figures, daunting odds
And though, come what may
Copyright 2005 Fawn Brooks
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