Peaches

I’m so tired,

Work’ll do that

To a body, a mind;

Perhaps my thinking’s

Not so straight

But this?

This is too brief,

Has been nowhere

Near enough.

Too short,

Too black and white,

Nondescript.

No sweetness.

Robbed

Of life,

Of space

Of tomorrows …

And this was

All it deserved?

This passing,

This new burden-old,

This one-more-time grief:

Intrusion, parasite opinion?

This savagery?

I’m so tired.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s