Poetry (5)

There’s nothing going on inside my mind;
This must be what it’s like to be deceased.
Of all the instances of humankind,
My case…

And, when I lie in bed and cannot sleep,
I gaze upon the unrelenting night
And hear the little child within me weep
And feel…

And Flower moves among the flowers
And takes in every one.
To think of all the endless hours
That no…

At 3 am, you lie awake
And find yourself in being.
Your mind’s as still as any lake,
Free-wheeling…

You haven’t got the spine it takes
To stride upon the stage
And play the part of one who shakes
His fists…

You’re conscious of a lack of drive
And wonder what that means.
Perhaps you’ve lost the will to thrive,
As happened…

You try to see yourself in some safe space
Where everything about you’s only bright,
And not one shadow falls across your face
To plunge…

You’re looking for a place within
From which to reach your goal
And wonder at the lack of din
As well…

You’re looking for a place within
From which to play the role
Of someone who was born to win
And scores…

And, once again, life’s brought you low;
You’re staring at the ceiling.
Instead of swigging whiskey, though,
You’re knocking…