a Poem

Third time writing you a letter

Getting darker

I'm getting worse

And worse

I had a reason for the writing

But trying to exorcise my demons didn't work

To try to rid me of the worry and to purge

You out of wonder for the future and the hurt

I wrote a poem

I'm increasingly aware

I've been painting things in gray

I'm increasingly alarmed by the pain

I'm increasingly alive

To every cloud up in the sky

I'm increasingly afraid it's gonna rain

See

lately I've

Hated me

for over-playing pain

For always pointing fingers out

At everyone

but who in fact is guilty

And for picking at my scabs

Like they could never break

But they can and they will

And I'll spill like a leak in the basement

A drunk in the night choir

Just slur all those words

To make deadbeat that

Sweet old refrain

Self-inflicting my pain

And therein lies the real shame

I heard when they were

Picking through the rubble

Finding limbs

they sang hymns

But now what of what I see?

The worry

the wonder

The shortness of days

The replacement for purpose

The things swept away

By the worry

the wonder

My slightness of frame

The replacements for feeling

The casual lay

And the worst of the wildlife

Wears clothes and can pray

And the worry

the wonder

For three meals a day

Only death unimpeded

Not slowing it's pace

Brings that petty

old worry

And wonder away