I missed another deadline.
This is lame.
As are a lot of these poems.
I am trying to express and
NOT repress... not be a
HYPOCRITE, but it's hard
When the cards are stacked
Against you and you worry about
EVERYTHING and there seems
To be no end in sight - financially
And otherwise.
Why me? Why like this?
Why am I a tragedy with
An outward projection system
Of comedy... can't let anyone see
The underpinnings... they will
Run and hide behind the barricades
So the shrapnel doesn't come even
Close to abrade their skin... not even
A hint of my negativity - or else
Flesh will get to melting like so much
Agent Orange poured directly on
At close range.
Breathe. That abates the anger.
Only sometimes.
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