Gloom

Confusion sets in
Along with it the sense of vertigo and spinning wheels
Tumbling end over end and from side to side
Slipping through the cracks in the floor

I’m lost again
Forgotten all over again
Unforgiven one last time
And still the church bells ring out to echo the tale of my soul
With its sweet ballad of woe
And crying eyes and flushed cheeks
Petals flakes falling softly to the ground
Crushed beneath feet and booted heels and crooked canes

But my heavy eyes and slumping shoulders burdened so
By this weight upon them both
Throws down the gauntlet of dreariness deep

“God help me now . . .”
And no there is no answer for one so wicked as I
No answer at all for I deserve none don’t you think?

“Well to hell with you God!”
My head sags to my chest and my eyes close
The lids so heavy

I feel the sense of gravity on my face
And still there is no answer

“Who needs you anyway, you never answer . . .”

No, 
No flower petals . . .

. . . . either

deathdepressionlifeprose poetry

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