I Remain
Idle threats as the cold wind blows
The lonely rope hanging in the barn
Calling and beckoning me
Whispering echoing nagging
inadequacies
And winter holds me in
her icy grip
I lurk around eating any chemical
to give me some semblance of escape
My temporary vacation always cut short
The holes in my pockets mimic
the hole in my soul
And here I remain
Copyright © Darrell Hoover | Year Posted 2019
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