SEASON OF ME

attacked
life
as if in a
title fight
yield meant
nothing to me
wrong direction
one way street
flew like
a drone
into a
no fly zone
putting out
fires
growing
tired
under strain
fuming smoke stack
runaway train
gone off track
stuck in
reverse
hindsight
cursed
bull in a
china shop
fish outta water
flip...flop
square peg
trying to fit in
with a circle
of friends
starved
soul
fraction
of a whole
part of
the scene
not meant
to be
shifting
shape
paint chipped
away
torn
fabric
part of
the magic
cinder block
built
patchwork
quilt
picture
piece
season
of me