Ploughed -the call
interrupted my day -Again
so i saddle myself
and contemplate how to move forward.
No amount of energy -Spared
from mocking grins
wearing orange, as I recall,
is able to rescue me.
Posted on Posted in PoetryTagged death, depression, dreamscapes, forgiveness, listening well, mental well-being, my promise garden, suffering, this writing life, who am I
