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a poemish poem

vile vileness it filleth my soul
i stand at the center without a goal
people going right over me
but where they are going i dont see
all i see is the lines and i cant move
so i wont play i cant win so i will not lose
where does that leave me perhaps on a blimp
chillin with duffman laughing over a drink
we all know i get pyro especially the king
and blimps are explosive with no outer ring
people who are they but more importantly who are they not
they are not me and they do not act like people non stop
i eat and i poo like a russian race horse
im content as contentness can be whereever ofcoarse
still i am evil, i know this to be true
sometimes i wonder if karma will do
it pains me to know but even more to think about forgetting
and even more to forget what i think i know im paining about
the complications continue compiling
the stipulations keep me deriving
there is an escape simply because there is a liberty
prenuptial agreement it was only given to me
still though i see myself as an infirmity
here or there however i may be
ill always fall short of sweet serenity
not because i hear not its splendorous callin
rather because though i fall i wont hit rock bottom
so i must stay falling if only for escape
until this moment now i hadnt thought of a plate
or maybe i had but in a different way
still its not something that i'll contemplate
the darkness within me will continually soothe me
and im not worried if light wishes to lose me
its all relevant and boils down to an intolerable cruelty
all thats left to passably wonder is how you could be both and still not want to let me go
I will still get me answer, but not from you though