Thursday, April 12, 2012


Dark heavy feeling
Up between the brows,
Supposing the prose
Might reveal why I frown.
Grown weary of waiting
For the next start,
Weary of wanting
And striving in part.
Wearisome pacing,
Poised with no where left
To run.
Stand my ground
Till I overcome what's got me down,
Drowning in quicksand
Need to lie down,
Even my weight.
The struggle is to bring
My feet even keel with my head
To spread my weight evenly,
Not be beaten by the crippling,
Knee high sands of time.
Hour glass filling and I'm not
fulfilled not fulfilling a days work for daily bread.
Led myself to a desperate corner where I don't know what I want,
So would be happy with any chance
Even if it may not improve
My circumstance.
I struggle with the fear that in this weakened state,
That I may accept too soon,
Having waited so long,
Get it wrong, and only frustrate myself further.
Unfurled and fury against
My incompetence,
The broken cog in the clock of my existence,
But time goes on with or without me.
There is futility
In stating my case,
One so oft begot
In this human race,
Where we strive but end up stranded
On the islands of our own making;
Forsaking the shrouded path
That led us to such place.
To afraid to lead and to tired to chase,
afraid of change and strangers, scarred and barred from that which we should willingly embrace.
Face down in the gutter, sputtering endlessly to myself,
Knowing the face of depression
Has many eyes and stories,
And I live a privileged life
I shouldn't worry.

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