Poem: This could not be what is meant for me.
Mar 26, 2021
“Good morning!”
Bright with hope, yet I feel spent
Renewed with anxiety replete with dread
Blame Adam, blame fathers, blame partners
yet in perdition, I toil my gardens
“Good afternoon!”
Beautiful, the malaise I cuddle.
Disturbing good the drink and coitus, I nuzzle.
Blame the government, blame the civic, blame the man
the digital ethereal’ succor leads me as a lamb
“Good evening!”
All is not quiet on my dark fronte
On bended knee, I prey my mind to blunt
“Goodbye!”
newness comes in drips and drabs
inspiration’s tonic is not sustained
transform, the will is lost.
