Losers Never Win

Losers never win,
dim lit existence
showing up at heavens door
banging daily yelling "let me in",
with hopes wearing thin
like hair riped out at the root
zen position, astral projection
trying to fly the coup.

But I'm grounded
in fact i feel its more like I'm sinking
mind begins thinking
i have a will to start inking,
but I have nothing to leave behind
empty pages on the mind
will still searching for that scribble & blip
on hospital monitors reading only flat lines

Back to bead
eyes staring straight past the ceiling
into empty sky,
asking why?
Sinners win our authority
and pawn people for merciless dimes
and my crimes
is that Im a looser like vagabonds
cant pay the lawyers time

stuck in cycles
looking for that right fight to find
but whats right?
getting harder finger out
like stars cause the city to bright
like the rich stole the heaven straight off sky

what is innocence?
just a metaphor for the blind.
rather try to make difference
loosing every fruitless time.
But i still rather be a looser
with correctness in mind