where reaching out no longer

my ideas blowing finally in the wind
i am my ideas and where they do not sit 
neither can i nor be anything but hit
like a thump to the face
and a broken nose thus traced
as if the blood marked the score
and everything we did was ought

i sought nothing more
than to do what was right
all my life i tried and still had no height
so now it is time i stopped all these rhymes
and left the world that has no place for me
beside my own bodybag quite blue and seen

and the codeine i have of more than a gram
is what is now solving my problems to hand
and so i slowly feel it and so i slowly can
as it infuses my future
with the man i've become
and leads me to a peace

like the gently dimming rays of dusks
quite lengthening now and also that timely
where little more may i do too
than sit and ponder a lifetime gone
where daughter and sons and long-term relations
reach out too late to make a difference ever ...