CALLING ME

Like a broken car, they are trying to strip me of my parts, forgetting that I am still human and have a fighter's heart. When does this attack on my body and mind end, if it ever really started? This is my life to control. I can write those who mean harm at any moment or until the lesson is learned.

The machine keeps calling me somewhat like lottery numbers for a lucky winner only difference is I am this man's sinner, yet he calls me a saint and wants to invite me to family Sunday dinner.

I used to speed down this road, but now that I am in the great wide open like a wild horse, I can roam free when I die. Please hide my body in a place that is genuinely me, not behind some rusted cemetery gates because they have visiting hours, and you are always in a rush, so I know you'll be late.

The music is slowly playing the dance of the night like my picture show dreams are over, and the sun is coming up that means the day is calling me, and the man wants me to punch my card so he can watch me like some television reality game show but today will be like the price is right or let's make a deal but with calling me he does not know that I cracked the code to all he holds