What If

Days are like soap bubbles Nights, like the freight train rumbling through a ghost town Of late, My heart beats grudgingly, Daily chore, a Sisyphean task Writing is an ordeal the letters appear like ants scrambling for bread crumbs, A straight line ends up wavy and out of place, I walk with a pebble in my shoe, And tagging along everywhere is a nagging fear… What if? ~11/28/22 ~Contest: A Brian Strand Premiere #53