Confusion

The language of confusion leads short my execution... Leaving the meetings in pieces, never to be linked as fusions. A conclusion resulting in total retribution, I stand tall as I call it my self collusion. With a back and forth tug of war, I could be forced in a few institutions. What's yours is mine, as I am yours, no longer can be computed. It's a world wide tour that I endure, with each stop feelings are diluted. Still I step on stage with my heart on wage, with this mic that might as well be muted... 😔