By: Tonya Ross
Questions abound in my ifernal head,
Yet go unanswered, as if my thoughts were dead.
What is this misery I must keep,
Shriveled up inside, piled in a giant heap.
Can there ever be any answers, to this puzzled mess,
Will there ever be a way, for my soul to rest?
Time is all I’ve got, but nothing that I want,
Please excuse me now, for being so blunt.
This world is full of hatred, crap is getting deep,
Please pick up the rug, so that I may sweep.
My closets stuffed and overflowing, into the halls it creeps,
Sidestepping tiny bushels, my strides with giant leaps.
Giving up is not an option, that I care to choose,
When the day is finally done, I have nothing left to lose.
These questions will get answered, thoughts I no longer dread,
For now, I must take a break, and lay upon my bed.