Wordle #137 “Decoy”

137

To what do I owe this plight?

Do my crises depend upon

The attainment of some

Dogged sense of perfection

If they are to resolve themselves?

Do my borders keep

The forces within from spilling out

Or do they merely suppress insight?

Is the issue a matter of

Presentation or presentiment?

Am I a Lego or a man?

Must I manufacture myself

Or is it enough to give thanks

For that which is of itself so?

The fires in hell do not compare

To those trouncing my words,

My heart, my road weary legs

Nothing compares to the hate

One can muster in defense of self

Even if that self is only a decoy.