I never stood a chance.

I tried to save my soul
and I tried for the blessed life,
but I was a wolf amongst sheep,
the wrong form for the right.
I tried to shift shape
to make myself a better me,
but I was provided no answers
for surviving insanity.

Now the question of
a life back on that side
is one that sticks to me,
eats at me from the inside.
I miss the many faces
and the ever-hopeful ways,
but I feel that moving forward
would be back to yesterday.

The problem yet remains
for my eternal hopeful stance:
I know too much to know
that I will never stand a chance.

© Blake Leitch September 30, 2015