Saturday, December 26, 2009

Scrabbled

They ( my family) are watching "a Christmas story". I hate that movie.
I have gone years and years escaping that movie and this year will be
no different. So I wrote a poem in the other room with my earphones
on. I feel that it poem is very forced so forgive me. I need a muse.
Some inspiration that tears at my heart. Something or someone. That is
what this poem is lacking. Honesty. Hmm I may end up erasing it if I
still don't like it tomorrow.


Quitely thinking with a numbing tone
Among all this panic that I unfortunately own

A resolution? A solution to all this clutter?
But how do I begin it? What words do I mutter?

So in my head I turn it and flip it
Reversing the order so I can better read it

But seeing the answer was not properly planned
As I choke back the realization of this destructive end

Sent from my iPhone

No comments:

Post a Comment

boyoma