A Somber November
the bleakness of which was unparalleled
your weakness will no doubt be up held
havoc has consumed a once fertile mind
the girls and the women have been so kind
as to bring candy and cherries to my home
turned away to remain in my steel dome
no visitors, no family shall enter
bemused to myself, mumbling insane banter
scratches all over my arms and on my amygdala
the only bites consumed are on a tart royal gala
a Scottish hymn playing over and over in my head
beside me a dead poem, remembering the once bled
my slumber interrupted by a phone call;
you can be happy now, you will not fall.
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