Second Go

Second Go

I’m stressed. I’m pissed. Don’t know where to go.

A pitchfork differentiated; a song with no flow.

Don’t know where I’d lost it, not sure where it slipped.

The momentum of triumph collapsed as I tripped.

The game’s changed. Not the player. Yet the chess piece must move,

To conform or to resist, when he never doubt “truth”.

As if the gravity of the universe were encapsulated in time’s hands;

As if all he once possessed, crumbled into nothing, but sand.

With empty hands. Carry on. Picking bits where he’d left off

With scarred feet. Tracing back. Seeking what he’d once lost.

Everything he once believed; applies not in this realm.

He’s a penguin in a snowglobe. A ship with a missing helm.

In the middle. Of the ocean. Damned and distressed.

No sense of direction. No wind. No strength.

Worst place you could be in: a world where all is unknown.

A kingdom with different values. No place to call home.

You could wake up by the shore. Amnesia and all.

Start over. Redemption. Whose there to break your fall?

What’s up is now down; what’s south is now north.

Lost. Alone. No direction but forth.

The everyday routine you’ve done so many times before

Does not apply to this realm. No. Not anymore.

You thought the bar was raised, yet it’s set down below;

You did things the same way; but dug an empty hole.

Nowhere to go now. A shipwreck in the sea.

No place to belong now. No place you should be.

On the fence. Penetrated. Stuck and confused.

The compass spins. Everywhere. Give him his tourniquet. His pills.

There IS no direction. No place he belongs.

You’re on your own, soldier, from the day you were born.

The game has changed, my friend, and you must conform

Or be left counting stardust, a clean slate without mourns.

All that he thought was right. is now simply wrong.

All that he once built. Demolished. All gone.

Time’s up. Doors open. Lonely nights await you.

Twenty years. Chunking Mansion. Cleaning toilets, I find you.

A tissue please. Here you go.

Aren’t you that guy I used to know?

I’m done. Here’s twenty.

Thanks sir. It’d feed my family.

Cardboard boxes. Broken furniture.

Congestion. Wood fractures.

Cup noodles to the side.

A bike for a ride.

Tin trays. Scraping. Against the concrete floor.

Leaves you pondering on what you’d given up. What you once used to live for.

Above. A bridge. Burnt down into flames.

No more excuses, you said. Noone else left to blame

but myself.


No purpose to thrive.

Nothing else left to strive.

Regrets and Decisions

filled with Unanswered Questions.

You look up. No roof. Not anymore.

You look down. No tiles. An uneven floor.

You’re a black piece remaining.

On a white tile still standing.

You’re lost. You’re indifferent. Don’t know where to go.

Because at the end of the day,

All that I’m asking

is one

second go.


~ by 11leec2 on June 12, 2012.

3 Responses to “Second Go”

  1. I don’t get what does this mean? >.<

  2. >.< this is so good!

  3. .________.

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