Aren’t poems supposed to be
Beautiful, inspiring, and good?
Why should I collect everything
That I hate and share them with you?
To make each one of us angry?
So that we’ll get depressed and brood?
I don’t want to start, I never want to start.
The day has been good. The sun rose.
Life has been productive enough,
And I had some food. And who knows?
Maybe it’ll remain this nice
If I don’t give in to these thoughts.
Their daughter is shouting curses,
The house shakes with her every step,
And they were never born to sing.
They are so bad, I lost my rhyme.
But I struggle to get back on
The rhythm of patience and calm,
Continue to live on and on,
Mind my own business, and hum psalms
In my head as the day goes on.
No comments:
Post a Comment