What's wrong

Maybe life isn't hard enough
and I don't try hard enough.
Perhaps I'm having too much fun today,
But there is precious little to suggest that.
As I sit here going out of a mind
that has precious little time to find
an escape from the trapping and trimmings
of a reality, it hits me -
Sideswiping, headlong until tomorrow,
sure, I'll plough on but for how long.
With aching bones and a brain that drones
through the night until tomorrow.
Still, I'm filled with sorrow for all of those
affected and rejected by these tones
of a life that I too loathe.
So, even though I'm homing in closer,
closer to acceptance is still negligent
to my eloquence which is the problem here.
I can articulate the doom,
but not fight against it.
This is life in the ranks of the affected and rejected,
craving the tastes of successes and contentments.
But seldom they're seen in the pastures I'm after.
This is the vicious and viscous circle,
treading through the mire
of an eloquent squire with so much to say
about what's wrong but with no one to hear
so much as the utterance of a letter
of how to make me feel much better.

And there you have it.