Distance

 
    I've yet      
to make an entrance      
    
I need      
medical assistance      
with my acute feelings of resistance      
    
light      
the darkness      
of futility      
that keeps me sitting upon fences      
    
I see merit      
reason      
in most any stance      
pure evil      
being exception      
    
indecision        
keeps me glued      
a pinned butterfly    
a kosher pig in sty      
a suffocating      
caged Lion      
    
because      
there ain't      
any Angels      
just angles      
to play      
on this, "the man's"  
construct of a stage      
    
yet      
I accept      
his wage      
obliterating      
my right      
to rage      
to shamelessly stake      
a righteous claim      
    
leaving this "man"      
with limited visionary range      
to shamble      
take responsibility      
for nameless children of fate      
but no blame      
for idiosyncratic wear      
inflicted on fellow players      
whilst I perpetually lose our game