? Poem by Arthur Hummler

I always screw up
I never give up
It's fixation or fornication
of escapism from my life
to live life on the edge
to hedge myself from pain
no gain, only guilt remains
trying to achieve that certainity
that makes me pure
My disease, is it my cure?
Where life is one big hook
And I'm its lure
Searching for the truth
and finding lies
Content with only myself
Never happy with all my wealth
buried six-feet under
My one true outcome
I wonder?