Post Rehab, Undefeated

He's all cleaned up, his hair
And beard trimmed shorter
Than before, and where
He used to be covered with
Dirt, and oozing beyond repair,
Seemingly hopeless, now fixed,
But still with the crazy-man stare...

What is he thinking
As he sits with his bags and wine,
Or is he quietly sinking
To where the sun don't shine,
Weighed-down with the devil's gift
Of bad karma, too heavy to lift,
He's all cleaned up, but can't arise,
Or wake from the null that shows in his eyes...