Conundrum

[Ryan McBain]

He gave me the gift of write
But when I fall I lose faith in all things far and in sight
Does that loss hurt my maker as well?
The lowest of lows, is where my gift gains strength
The possibility of that switching is forever extinct
My pen becomes sharper as the sorrow becomes darker
Misfortune on my tail, I guess its a stalker
So I take a swig of the liquor to feed my temper
Its like fuel for my poems, make sure you remember
Sometimes I have conversations with my shadow
We discuss the paths I chose not to follow
With my mind's eye I see nothing but more problems tomorrow
Despair is my air
Been there since day one
So its nothing new, bring on the next conundrum