• A mixed bag of incosistancies The lights flicker on and off Nothing but his own head flicking To his own shaking hand It doesn't stop It won't go away Nothing makes it go away He can't stop it Then it goes dark Muddied vision A fallen hero Waking up from the American Nightmare Just wanting to go back asleep The nightmare was a blessing A blessing to this To this hell he lives in And all he wants Is a dream A dream that doesn't consume A broken bullet in the gun of life Misfired Backfired Trigger-happy A broken man Set aside Left for dead He stares at everything that brings him joy The pictures on the walls Screaming out his past His failures His hopes His desires His crimes His hate His love His faith His violent heart The gapping hole The ticking clock As each day passes He finds himself waiting for Waiting for? He forgot Eons ago His sight, his hearing, his sense of touch All gone Eons ago Only by scent Does he feel In this rubbish pile This cest pit This movement in white

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