I Can't Cope

I can't cope with the fact that there’s no hope tomorrow. I'm so wired, no wonder every morning I wake up still tired. I've battled with the demons and most days, it seems they've won, ‘cuz every day I live life like I'm staring down the barrel of a gun. It’s insane, that this humanistic disdain for the illusions that these smoke and glass mirrors feed our eyes through contusions; we losin’. And any day now our world’s gonna bust, spontaneously combust and all surface areas will begin to rust. But it’s a must, that I convey this message to you today. We pray, only before our heads we lay. . .down, but we should be praying while we’re awake because we need God’s protection then too. I flew, over the coo coo’s nest, but found no eggs at rest. They must have found their way into my breakfast frying pan, which is absurd because I’m still claiming vegetarian. I travel this land like a nomadic man, can’t sleep because I’m still searchin’ for home. So I roam and I traverse, but I know that I’m well versed in the droves of the wretched and cursed, who don’t know if they’re coming or going like a swarm of lotus. Before this poem starts to coalesce and make sense no less, I’ll end it so you can have it and search for your own meanings. In case you’re confused, don’t take this as demeaning it is simply designed for you to play verbal Sudoku. I purposely left out some of the real understanding for you. . .to insert your own and create your own PEACE of the lyrical puzzle.