Sick of writing through misery

sick of crying until I fall asleep

I’m pretty damn tired of everything

nothing seems to offer me clarity


Spent like the cash from a weathered billfold

content to at last let my veins run ice cold

strung up and paraded for all to behold

banked on the river down which I’ve been sold


Talking unfailingly frustrates me

blocking my own thoughts relentlessly

walking into the warmth of a blanket party

balking at the shocking way that others look at me


Steady as the tempo of shimmying rainfall

I remain plain and mundane through it all

a statue of concrete built standing up tall

unable to bend at the knees or to crawl


Rain or shine this destiny is mine

to stand tall and keep my place in line

never underestimate the enemies of mine

a newly told joke with the same old punchline.



4 thoughts on “Punchline.

  1. avldreams says:

    beautiful and true!!