Allan

Allan, mangled

In a tangle

Always seeking

Causes freaking

He’s a wild one

In a box

Wanted lots

Lost the plot

Messer messer

Not the best dresser

But none the lesser

He’s got tricks up his sleeve

But now they’re stuck

Will never leave

Until the thorny path is clear

Until the truth is ever near

Until that point

Breathes a strange fear

Mangle tangle

Allan languid

Stagnant shitzone

Does not feel home

Choices spin inside his head

The word decision brings much dread

Decisions seem heavy

A set of weights

Closes gates

Hooked on meaning

From this word gleaning

A sense of being locked

Eternal prison

Is the prism

In which he sees

The living free is not enough

So neither choses

Stuck in the moment

Or stuck in the doing

Resistant to something

As well as to hunting

Down what that something is

He wants some answers

Prancer, dancer

The answers are wanting him

There is a curtain

A thick dark veil

When the time comes to lift

There’ll be splendid gifts

But first

The puzzle of puzzles

Of scrambling things

Dipping into this world

And down into that

Muddling them both

Trying to combine

Is a waste of time

(Might be the line)

Direction direction

Whatever he choses

There’ll always be things he loses

But also much to gain

He’s a delightful brain

He must hop on some train