Where One Wish Not Tread Poem by Jack Shimmin

Too far from where I want to be, behind scattered trees; amongst these, I cannot hear I cannot see; it was never meant for me, this enlightening visibility.
One, four, three; my beat is disrupted; thrown out to sea, vision corrupted, of my survival there is no guarantee.

I have to push to live to push, to escape, I am no escapee; still the skies blue is lush, still pain from the scrape, I am not yet deaths nominee.

Guided by my mottled hand I searched for thee, a foot, the ankle, a knee; such white blinded me, from then on I was left as fragments and debris of my former mentality.

No longer one with sanity.