I am Jack's flawed poetry

I am Jack's broken back

Broken from lifting the weight of the world,

From making others troubles mine,

Right from the time my fingers were curled

I am Jack's raised brows,

Raised from the skepticism towards all around me,

Raised from the trust no one could gain,

Right since when I could first see

I am Jack's seething anger,

Seething from the love I never got back,

from the love they never deserved,

Right since humanity they began to lack.

I am Jack's fried brain,

Fried from doing the right things,

From watching out for them while they smoked,

Right since they saw those Pretty Young Things.

I am Jack's misplaced sense of righteousness,

Misplaced due to lack of a frame of reference,

Due to the botched up anesthesia of my brain,

Ever since I sat on this fence.

I am Jack's diabolical mind,

Diabolical since Nineteen Eighty Six,

Since knowing what kind of a place this was,

You want to know  too? Come, let me get you a fix.