Analysis of COMIC BOOK

It was the middle of the night; nothing of the day made any sense again. I'm not sleeping, and dreams were a lost romance. Tonight, I wish I could be riding tall, but like today, it played out like a comic book: the villain chasing the hero, and once again, both do not want to admit defeat, so on their scorecards, both had zeros.

It is getting later, and the rain is starting up, or maybe it is the tears from my eyes from all the surprises I'm getting lately, some good, some bad, some the best I ever had. All I ever asked for was my goddamn theme song when I walk through the revolving door, even if I get caught or him myself or download off I tunes.

Wait, wait, wait, it is getting late. I am my villain; I am my superhero. I write the music and the lyrics to my damn theme song. I write the story for my comic book. There will always be trouble ahead and trouble behind depending on how it crosses my mind, so the title of my funny and theme song in the late hours of the fall night is in with the good shit out with bad shit.