What happens when your open eyes stare;
Appraising the 'You' in view
But not the self-same looking one
Whose inability to turn back up Time's passage
Has naught to do with a loss of manual dexterity
Nor personal health and safety gone mad?!

That's the moment when I wondered
What's the point in having hands to hold on to?!
And so I let go!
Of angrily looking back.
In fact I might as well find a way
To say I love me nonetheless

Regret? Now lets think...
Mightn't that be a re-emergence of Greatness
But for the lack of a single letter?
Whose absence left me serving A death sentence
In a penitentiary of my own construction.

Yeah, I could've been eternally destined
To fanciful thinking in that well-appointed bedsit,
An inner space on the upside of my head designed for comfort,
But instead it served as a chokey - in which I was solitarily confined -
And wherein I searched In vain (thank God) to find a single beam
Over which to loop a well-intentioned rope
Made out of dried-out tissue paper
And my guilty conscience
Retailing around inside my damned numb skull

And so from behind those bars i vowed
To join consonants with vowels
in the formulation of a bid to breakout!
And this here is my personal manifesto!
It has naught to do with a loss of manual dexterity
But says that I love me nonetheless.
It's what t happens when your open eyes stare;
Appraising the 'You' in view
But not the self-same looking one
Who is unable to turn back up Time's passage.

U wrote this?

Great Job as usual my friend