My life has become a brittle bouquet
Of dead red roses in rapid decay
And all that I thought one day I could be
Is now but a part of lost history.

I look to the East and yearn for the West,
Confusion conceals the best of my quest.
Lost to the ages and rages of time,
Dreams of destruction destroy the sublime.

This haunting refrain just leaves me with pain,
Counting my losses while looking for gain.

Shattered and battered from reckless crusades,
Just seeking the truth but truth always fades.

Bitter and broken my life out of hand,
Darkness descending as I make my stand.
Though once like an eagle I flew so high
But I lost my wings and then lost the sky,

Born with great gifts to both give and receive,
And when I was young, my youth did believe,
But then I became a pawn in the game
Of pleasure and pain , while buried in shame.

Disease of the mind I carried at birth,
A bipolar life would measure my worth.
Paternal genetics, my father's gift;
Our brains afflicted predicted the rift.

My childhood was erratic filled with fears
Where highs too high and lows too low made tears.
All chance at normal family not there,
Though blood to blood - our love we could not share.

Complex confusion and then off to war,
Wasted and worn to my broken down core.
Leaving those years and those fears far behind,
I come to this time with hope that my mind

Will bring back to me a man who is free,
Immersed in the verse of his poetry,
And always belongs to his family
As part of the bark that makes up its tree.

Learn more about this author, Tom Mcmurray.
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