Capps Poetry Plunder! Arrrrr!

Self-will riot

familiar places and familiar faces

somehow I've become paranoid of the two

if I could face them like a roaring lion

I'd be able to reach the Acme on Kilimanjaro’s laden stretch

yet, part of me refuses to push ahead

and the rest of me is satisfied with being alone

this too shall pass, said one of the familiar faces

my confidence was instantly rebuilt and I was off to the races

back again in those familiar faces chasing my nightmares again

yet, he was my choice to fold up again until Possum

only pretending to be dead because I never had the balls

to carry the off, by myself, yet so still.  I only pretended

crying out to heaven for the Angel to please come out and save me

yet, I was still standing upon the pile of the defeated

it even smelled like defeat, but somehow I grew a little stronger

maybe because it didn't kill me and pissed off that it didn't make me feel the way it had done when I was still young

so why was I still choosing to face the roaring lion?

A bad habit, so hard to break was all I could think of

why did I feel used up and thrown away?

Like the self will run riot, I still remain quiet

because I was still hurting and bleeding and I was still feeding

the bad Wolf and he was crouched and ready to devour the rest of me

am I ready to be eaten? Or will I surrender the war against myself?

And end that self will run riot