It's Called Confusion Poem by Frederick Nellist

A mental fork built in every lane
signposts showing slippery slopes
Little sign of friendly persuasion
all designed to contaminate hopes.

Intermittent wondering of my mind
issues a passport to frustration
I'm sailing my life in a dry dock
not the place to start a vocation.

My future in sight but not yet seen
abandoned schemes littering my mind
My aspirations have bitten the dust
And my expectations sadly declined.

Enlightenment not caressed my mind
I'm not inclined to reach for a star
Seek attention from a reluctant guide
that could be a decision too far.

Not a man of substance oh no not I
my predicament not a false illusion
It is now time for a well said prayer
and ask God to forgive the intrusion.