A Self Portrait

(Tried out a multiple exposure experiment on myself some time back , seems as if it has become a metaphorical depiction of my tormented being now)

"You win a while, and then it's done -
Your little winning streak.
And summoned now to deal
With my invincible defeat,
You live your life as if it's real.

You are turning tricks, I'm getting fixed,
I'm back on Boogie Street.
You lose your grip, and then you slip
Into the Masterpiece.
And maybe I had miles to drive,
And promises to keep:
You ditch it all to stay alive.

And sometimes when the night is slow,
The wretched and the meek,
We gather up our hearts and go.

I saw there were no oceans left
For scavengers like me.
I made it to the forward deck
I blessed our remnant fleet -
And then consented to be wrecked.

I guess they won't exchange the gifts
That you were meant to keep.
And quiet is the thought of you
The file on you complete.

And sometimes when the night is slow,
The wretched and the meek,
We gather up our hearts and go,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.

The ponies run, the girls are young,
The odds are there to beat...!"

[A slightly altered version ( with due apologies) of Leonard Cohen's song 'A Thousand Kisses Deep']