Hexed, vexed
completely perplexed
I can’t help but wonder
what may happen next.
Weak, meek
of failure I reek
just a sad waste of life
hope gone, outlook bleak.
Pout, shout
fussing all about
a frail little puppet
on taut strings of doubt.
Gloom, doom
I’m locked in my room
go get the dirt
I’ll wait in this tomb.
1 comment:
Now that is what I call a sunny outlook on life...
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