Eleven-eleven said the clock
As a fool made a wish for escape and understanding
A way outwould be nice
I'll have no good advice
When the clock begins to scream, "twelve after"
Some days the walls look greener
Caught on these fish hook eyes
I'll stay in bed all day
Hung and saved for days that can't seem weaker... waiting
And even if the bugs turn into people who ask, "are you alright?"
Just say, "yes," and smile
And doubt the outcome of every day
Weaker days await