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
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