UNTITLED.

I wollo, wobble where I go
I do not know
The to or fro
The past 
The pout
The pissed off sniffs
The shade
The fade
From brutal lips
I slip and slide through life somehow
I find 
I fight 
These echoes now
Await me
Deadly dazzled drips
Of cold
That calm my feeble hips
I tip tip toe
Through wounded wrists
I cry the sigh of:
What do this?
No (cow)onward
I SPEAK MY MIND: 

The meek, the many
Mumbled moans
Tones that roam 
My achy groans
No bed I go
No sleep in sight
The might at night
Is more than fright
Fly kites in days
To pass the time
Will I be fine ... Just 1 more time?