Midnight Race Poem by Xaint Perry Poet

Iam lying here in cold bed
and staring at the celling
where all is wasted blank
my life is just wethered
with flame of sorry
i dunno who to turn to
i have been struck into pain
and caught out in darkness
when time done and gone

i lying here
a windly storm
and hater block my happiness
i never done with success
iam thirst look the waterhold
cannot found no peace

iam lying with drunkness
i didnt think it true
there give a sadness
i tipped in the sign bittness
fit my case in art wink
and know my pain and sorry

i dunno if can ever sleep
stretch a dozen times
a night of creep to
my smooth stream wreatch
were bloodly murder talk to
my soul rest