Wasted

Wasted,
Encased and placed
Strategically composed
To formulate the
Supposed infinite
Imaginations of the
Grand Dreamer
Through simple syllables,
Verbs and words
And lines of defined
Divine philosophies
But keeping it locked down
Inside of me.
I see destiny but don't have the wings
To fly me there.
Faith.
Being strong when you're wrong
And the songs of the wind
And every friend mock you
From within,
As if they bypassed
The chest and aimed
Straight at the core,
Poking the sore
That is disappointment,
Infected with lies and alibis
On why you don't try
To fly,
So you smile,
All the while
The dial of sobriety
Shifts to total
Intoxication on unseen
Realities,
Forcing your process to be less carnal
And partial trust
To just stepping the path
Anyways.
Being uncertain is a burden
That holds the wrists,
Fists clenched tight as you fight,
Hoping you might just make it.