Routine, repetition, retardation in my life.“All but my fault”, the hymn of denial.Slate, ash, taupe, my thoughts are in strifeAs the gavel bangs in this ceaseless trial. Stayed awake dreaming, but mindlessly asleep,a sliver of aspiration kept me tethered.Memories of when I was unfiltered, unadulterated,but now appeasing the world in a bogus shroud. – Ted