behind the eight ball

Dry eyed, thrashed by the waters
In the game of pool
Life tells me to play ball
the ball has never been in my court
I have tried to be on the ball
It is like I am out on a limb
unseen chain and ball cling
At the ball, I take a swing
I hit the ‘eight ball’
I miss my cue, I miss my shot
‘nother foul shot, in my slot
some pot shots never work
and ethics cannot be shirked
If I had a crystal ball to gaze
that would put me in a daze
like staring down the barrel
of a smokin’ gun
knowing that the bullet coming out
would have my name on it
I would never turn tail and run

not ready to bite the dust yet
life is not all hard work and sweat
would let my hair down and have a ball
I believe in hedonism not at all
All I need to hear ever
my euphonic conscience ..my peace measure