“Your poems have gotten too gloomy,
It’s better when you are funny.”
Giving the public what they want,
Something, something fluffy bunny.
Three AM and I’m staring at the mirror,
No tears left, my eyes are bone dry.
Searching for meaning and endlessly asking,
Why won’t you let me die?
People come, people go,
And time keeps slipping by.
Only reason I’m still around,
Is for fresh blueberry pie.
If I look a little weathered,
Or perhaps a wee bit scruffy.
Just had a total knee replacement,
And don’t feel as cute as Buffy.
My stress is so thick, so deep,
I’m having no fun.
Fight or flight has kicked in,
And you’ve left me no where to run.
The winter winds are howling,
My soul shivers with the chills.
The situation couldn’t get worse,
Except I’m paying all the bills.
Stood next to my parents’ grave this week,
They didn’t have much to say.
Yet all was peaceful in that moment,
I felt the warmth of their love that day.
Wet, soggy Saturdays,
Leave me feeling kind of bishy.
Just stepped into a puddle now,
My feet go “Squishy, squishy!”