My Awakening
The path through my house,
is slim, and cluttered,
holding on to nothing,
not a sound is muttered.
Plenty of misery,
occupies every room,
but I keep trying,
to remove the gloom.
Mornings are much better,
evenings just pure hell
but deaf ears,
wonder through these trails.
Waiting is my game,
patience is my name,
constant is my pain,
almost insane.
,
Copyright © Christy Hardy | Year Posted 2008
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