Alone and lonely, the consternation is real
This poem will broach my inner turmoil
Maybe, I'm crass but this is how I feel
Worn out to stand on a dirty, muddy soil.
My wheel of balance has begun to church
Been so old and tacky, what else is to learn?
I'm not strong enough, I'm crestfallen
I'm sort of whole but helplessly broken
I'm impelled to run the letters
That words capture my heart
And when it's out I'm free
Some call it a hot mess or art
When I bury the baggage, they may depart
I know this poetry is the biggest start.
©eugeneinfinity
©eugene
E