If I Never Come to Shine

If it is I never come to shine, Suppose the dreams I’ve always dreamt were never to be mine. The world on me exerting resistance, Gasping from the smoke, bridges burning in the distance. The time has come, that I consider failure, I have pieced this together poorly, a lost and inept tailor. I wish for someone else, for which to place this blame, I wish for the deepest hole, for in which to hide my shame. What if it is that, I never come to shine? What if life for me is but anonymity and rhyme? No one else to blame, this constructed on my own, I see the fabric of my life, and how poorly I have sewn. The analog clock snapping thunderous ticking and tocks, the lines on my face now bending, My hands which repair now lying lame in atrophic despair, no longer will tend to mending. No man should be forced witness, audience of fall from grace, Why in the midst of eager gathered crowds, my own reflected face? My wish would be of knowing, when I missed that sign, Written by my hand, never shall you shine.