failure,
having no prospects.
no burning desires,
no urgent calling
no purpose.
I do not look my best
I do not dress to impress
I have no need to win friends and influence people
and I have no plans to change this.
I am stopping to smell the roses
I am being here now
listening to the sound of one hand clapping
Martha
ReplyDeleteI'm just coming out of a year of black rage followed by three years of blackest of black depression.
Your poetry touches my heart
I hope you are ok
I'm still willing to cut fabric
Sharyn in Kalama
you are betwixt and between and i wish for you a blissful future. take care, dear martha.
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