crown (molding)

If I didn’t have these walls
To sit and stare into thinking,
Where would my understanding
Look down like lion eyes reeling?
Feeding frenzied off the mirror,
My shoulder - to find strength from;
Idiot sun, noxious by the window,
Knot those ropes that came undone.

“Tragedy," thought the vultures, worn,
“Post-war mothers bear the working scourge.”
Observations passed by shade, idle in due time.
Consequence burns and bleaches the skyline;
And I wished around the hollow-dimed eyes
And dollar cosine.
    Falling past the numbers loop the blank check,
    Around the beasts great neck,
    And landing in my ego’s soup.
          Safe and sound.
And my life is stumped by white walls
Willingly brainwashed against all my might;
Clearly the fuel of medicine paints
A pain thinner than angel’s hair.
Drunk on prisms, pushing back rainbows;
A stained-glass window breaks and
Dawn rolls down my face.
    The wall, a pale silent rain
    Restrains me again.
    It’s like I’m right outside,
          Safe and sound.