The Battle Poem by carson alexander

There is no one around in physical form
To instantly carry me 2 highs when I can’t fly in the sky
When so ever I am weak
I feel mentally scorned
Among my own blood of don’t cares
Still I shrug of tears
&
Fight the external and internal fears
As I hourly look for clues
The battle continues
To fulfil projected shoes of this present life and future
During storms & sunny weather
As I encounter unpredictable yet predictable blues
Still my life suffers a series of clogs
As their lies no consistent sets of vocal hi, hugs and other forms of instant cares without requests
For aide 2 to cover or dispel
Predictable & unpredictable blues