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Dear God I'm not an inconvenience, just another man.

Never cried for your Omnipotence need a helping hand.

My mask of sanity was a victim of impending slippage I fear,

In an isolation ward that serves only to expose,

My own severe impaired capacity to feel and care for you,

and if you think that's sad, I care for me so much less.

Most times I can't find the relevance in this rusty can,

Plodding through this moral servitude, need a better plan right now.

I am not a social instrument just a mirrored face,

Trapped inside my own predicament, just reflect the hate,

looking for any significance, going nowhere but down,

Continue to be unpredictable, still need a better plan, Right now.