A Struggling Best Poem by Rachel Aurelien

My strengths are too short to reach a star
The same star I've been chasing like a million miles that's how far.
I'm in the land of nothing, digging deep with twenty dozen sows to weep.
My left hand tied behind my back with 101 types and one button working right.
Niggling whispers deny me and one lives in my loving sight.
I keep wondering will I defy the odds or keep battling until the niggling whispers, eyes is caressed by the envy's hand of my success.
Its a dirty handful of stress, but with my mouth tied I truly unwillingly confess.
Four points make a cross, one bow, then it's a blessing.
I pray that one day the lord will hear my ache.
It's a plan no one help me create.
Eight eyes think I'm a loving bitter, twisted old fool.
I can only blindly listen, it's a statement, I agree to overrule.
I wake up to an illusion of suppressed cloudy vision.
Finding myself in a passenger seat in a recurring isolated collision
My mind is separated by two divisions on a 101 focused decision.
A living dream not knowing how it started.
My mind on a farther step, what way do I take if the path is distantly petted?
One eye on the prize and the other is riding on the truth of unsatisfied lies.
Forever on a battle and an on-going paralysing tries.
Losing desires with both hands down, but they rise when the heat is raised.
My eyes lose focus, my past gone, but my memory fazed.
I read books to analyse but I compromise on the last pages.
Divided the parts in stages, the attention always dies so I can't read the last few pages.
My graft holds strong, it's in vain, a lifelong strain.
Picking up the small pieces with a 101 ton crane.
I can't drive home in the dark because I forever miss the lane.
It's the 101 types and the separated 101 focused decision.
While picking up the 101 ton crane.
Affecting my brain;

So I stop for 101 minutes while taking two breaths for every second.
Not stopping even if my health is threatened.
A strong heart and a strong mind, but a sore weaken wrist.
An accidental delete and I'm knocking walls with not just my fist.
Its a mind block only taking in information the rest is on lock.
Behind my back is the talk 'stupid' kind of mock.
It doesn't bother me that their love holds confused meaning.
My heart gives in but hardly leaning.
I stand on my own with no models on a role.
I only understand the actions of my thoughts coming from the mouth of my soul.
The struggle is my temporary battle, armed with faith.
All I have is my beliefs and the holy walls keeping me safe.
I cannot see past the walls with the holes.
Living a life on a short path, its 20 yards, that's two in-line poles.
Living like to banish the trolls while calculating my many goals.
I hold the keys to greatness; they lay to rest at my desk.
And my heart in a pendant hanging across my chest.
Just to awaken my visual senses, its longing, desire, both a crippling infest.
The pounding of motivation will not rest.
A calling within, shadows the burning desires with the ache I rub raw.
I wallow in my weakness, I cry for my strengths; it's the cold feeling I hate to adore.
A failure succeeds in the honours of my pity and drags me to the beginning, where it ended at the graveyard.
Where my dreams laid amputated and with it, dies the secret place of my inner city.
It may break me in pieces or I may scream until my heart rate increases.
But its a hand full of many races, its sucking my chi like hungry dying leeches.
So my aura is blue, my confidence is on one inch stilts; the height never grew but still I pursue.
My palace is waiting, it lives at that place with no routes, hidden under a blanket of my imagination.
The familiar spirits wander in its foundation.
Seeking their own company, we bond together in vision.