twenty one years
of bitter affairs
shaking my fist
pulling out hair
too busy to live
too busy to love
lost and mislead
guidance from above
is much needed
and cherished
to teach me
before i perish
to rid myself
of too many errands
to make time for love
for family and friends
working my life
into the ground
with a smile on my face
and no one around
im withering and alone
looking for hope
but i still run away
a pitiful dope
running and tripping
falling and failing
breaking my bones
but not moaning or wailing
letting the pain
eat at my soul
i need a rope
to get out of this hole
my life is passing
in front of my face
i just hope soon
i find my place.
my poems.
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