I have so many secrets locked up,
behind yet a phantom wall,
never listened as I crawled
over to the vines hanging tall,
and an artist forever draws
the singular and not a changing
as I toss and itch & sigh
notes illustrating withdrawals
The sketching of a doomed artist
sitting up & was once creative,
cracked eggs spills the flaws
sickness hesitating dying claws
to fill the rumble of hunger pangs
becoming like a chorus sang....
Deathly guilt's over-haul....