Day 16

This one is dark, I know, but I am okay in case anyone was actually concerned. Tried going a bit more abstract here, let me know what you all think.

 The End

 Conniving, rhyming riddle writers
Twiddle their thumbs, get inspired
By wishes won, whittling away
After getting dishes done.

Every Tuesday, a two faced, "too cool to play"
Hooligan accrues youth as if doomsday
Was coming Friday! Violence title: "my name,"
Wasting space for vacant aims, he chases pain.

To the edges of every hedge bed
Of roses so splendid said to be best bled
For a closer descent into that luscious red,
The lonely ghost hopes those petals rest his dead head.

Is the best bet really letting regret get his vest wet
With tears, envisioning different minutes spent
With Ted before he left, met with his last breath on pavement,
Brain invaded with vain claims, "yes, they'll save my pain again."

Resigning, tired, to vile requirements,
Filing his finicky foes into neat compartments,
Starting to depart from his body, what stops him
Is sloppy robbed bonds to his cooperative best friends.

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