TLC. Please?.

A Table, a Ladder, a Chair, Oh my,
such tender loving care to fly,
to break oak tables with my back,
to reel as red is rendered black.

I'll place my palm in gravity's
and leap from lifes complexities,
and everything just disappears,
misguided hopes fade as fears.

A man can roll right out the way,
or launch me from my ladder stay.
Helpless is my title belt,
Control to be just what I felt.

Just all the pain, in the past,
As from the ladder I am cast,
Or the kiss of steel upon my face,
consciousness by chairs is chased.

My dream is for it all to clear,
Vulnerable as the earth grows near,
nowt but gasps and dark-screen applause,
then white light of the hospital ward.

A Table, a Ladder, a Chair, Oh my,
such tender loving care to fly,
to let control be what I lack,
to reel as red is rendered black.