Sight Poem by Brandon Butler

Broken to become better
Lesser then statements of mind. I call to find long lines of broken time, though bends still filled with care and concern. For who is a question I ask too. Losing nothing feels like the world is gone. Typed to stop the coming days of dread and misery stated over and over again. Lost as I begin the turns of tomorrow. Looking for one step closer to the senses of worth all feels for who it may concern. Toped by locks turned to deny nothing. Except the ends of nothing as the seem. The left of spirits locking mine to its turns of time stopped to think is it real or memory.

What seems to lead me to the roads long walked for nothing in hopes of happiness. I shutter to think 'I am but a dream' the dream of my predecessor lived through cloaks of wisdom. As I try to pick my locks of mind, I find nothing why.

The becoming of a great
So long hoping that next to progress is a beginning
Like if anything was everything and nothing at once..
Why am I alive to live these days of pain
Over what I feel, I run.
Running to the ends of a story
Tails what.
Fragments state the turns
Blackened coals line my streets
Weeps of joy from afar drift here.
Lost in still mixes of pain
For nothing.