“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?
Winter is coming, would that I could be stronger,
As those desolate nights slowly become longer.
If only you were in my arms and by my side,
The light we create would cause the darkness to hide.
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.
My heart is bleak and desolate place,
Ice cold, encased in a cage of bone.
As I stare into the darkness a shadow flickers,
What dares intrude my hell of being alone?
The winter winds are howling,
My soul shivers with the chills.
The situation couldn’t get worse,
Except I’m paying all the bills.
Wet, soggy Saturdays,
Leave me feeling kind of bishy.
Just stepped into a puddle now,
My feet go “Squishy, squishy!”