Tag: sadness

requiem for a regular day off

A poem.

i don’t care who,
just save me.

free me from my life –
this drab spark that’s died
little by little over the time i’ve been alive…

i’m calling out from the bottom of the hole
that i’ve dug out for myself to keep me enclosed –
away from people and places exposed –
but now i don’t have anywhere left to go
but to dig myself further into this wretched barrow.

help.

…

help!

help me!
it’s too hot!

can anybody hear me?
if you can, shout back!
throw me a rope!
i’ll take you aflight to encourage the hope
you brought
to this Hell i’ve wrought.
hurry –
before i turn to rot.

//jf 8.11.2021

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murky depths in shallow water

A poem.

it’s the start of another cold day.
i am standing on a bridge above a creek
that makes a rushing sound as it crosses
the linn before the pier shafts.
i have an entire half-a-joint left and i am done.

as i listen to the water flow,
so do the thoughts that would deluge
any if they stood on that same precipice,
that wearing surface at three AM,
stoned and very aware.
not that anyone would care about my bouts with chance and disrepair.
should.
but it’s how i feel

and there again, another day,
as distant constellations fade with the night.
a light on the horizon,
a constant.
there is a candle burning somewhere bright.

//jf 1.20.2021

Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger on Pexels.com

Posted on by wd 0