Battered

Battered                                                            March 2, 2007

Help me, Lord!  Help me, Lord!
Help me out of this hopeless quagmire I'm amidst.
Give me strength and a little peace of mind,
For I feel I am thinking myself
Out of body and mind.
Can't really get by on my own two feet.
I am battered, yes, but my foe can't be seen.

I am bleeding, but not from my skin.
I am bruised, and not from a punch to the eye.
I can't really seem to settle down
And just be normal enough to cry.
I can't simply touch my toes
And then feel wholesome inside my soul.
I just can't do this, no man, I simply can't,
Nor can I do any and all of the that.
Simply put, I've fallen face-flat.
But who battered me?  We'll never know.  Drat!

I hear the many cries and the harrowing screams
But they're all locked up inside my head.
Seems that they all have one thing to say:
"Please get me the fuck out from behind these bars!"
There is a no rhyme nor reason here when I cry
Other than that cackling devil keeps calling
And his echoes bounce from the walls.
I can keep ignoring this fact,
But that won't do me no good.
I gotta keep trying to get out of here.
I gotta try and abscond from this life.

I am battered.
Hear me roar,
For my body does throb
Deep down to the core.
I am in tatters,
An enemy of the state,
And I often wonder why
He won't clean my slate.
Seems my life's a mystery
Ol' Sherlock can't solve,
That it all seems so "syndromic."
Thus, I cannot compete,
And all I seem to do
Is get battered right down to the teeth.