To Address Duress

I’ve torn the sheets

covering me nights.

I’m embattled bled,

unchanged to fight.

I want to evolve try

I change perspective.

Yet my vices do tear

a method ineffective.

All is same as before

so I change my pace.

Some new position I

my bed shift its place.

I’ve a responsibility

to open my eyes wide.

I beg myself to change

what my mask it hides.

Maybe I will wake to

see some method new.

To explain why I now

do the things that I do.

My sight is slayed by

my own selfish pride.

I am conquered from

what is found inside.

Truth I bend when I

see that I have failed

to look the part of a

person I want to sell.

See my exposed flesh

bled in a tirade fresh.

Failures I’ve expressed

to address the duress.

It is in fact the failure

it beckons for change.

Wish I wasn’t stubborn

for aspect to rearrange.

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