itch I cannot scratch

without going back to yesterday

doing those things

came close to killing me

& I’d love to feel over

the times I was high as the sky

climbing through the clouds

feeling I was the lord

of all I could survey

but that’s not the whole picture

there are always the images

I’d prefer we all forgot

lying in ditches screaming to the void

lost inside gone from the world

living in rags & poverty

my money going to just one place

to stop me from waking

seeing my one true face

& I had to be reborn

find my way back to me

& that itch I cannot scratch

belongs to the slave

I used to be

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