Fools Gold Poem by Matt Western

I tend to overindulge too much
Foiled by the cost of shouldering bad luck

Like soldering locks
The unwritten story of my life remains blocked

Dismissal of revered simplicities
Pass the mitigated flows of sheer lunacy
That seem to outlast periods of sense and stability
The pretence of which deem me unworthy

To maim the curfew of peering into oncoming surf
Of opportunity, congruency and self worth

Of this I know I need to get a hold
Yet the insurgence so bold is set the overload

Critically speaking the search is over
To revert the hurt and remain sober

The narrow ledge of realisation pledges
To relieve the stead of complacency round the edges

Circumstance of reason and firm clasp in deciphering the equation
Will permeate the task of finding new direction