World Weary

I look outside my window, at the trees growing bare I stare at speckled leaves, piling random everywhere I watch them decompose, death’s clogging up my air I want to rot with them, on the sidewalk over there I’m weary with vitality, having discarded all it’s flair I’m sick and tired of continuance, recycling and repair I’m on the whole partial, to forget about the stairs I’m doing cartwheels, first rectangular then a square My heart lives up my sleeve, can only deal from there My thoughts for others, cannot be bothered to share My sole sense of achievement, is self inflated despair My halo at last comes full circle, I kick away the chair ''W'' New Poems Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Constance La France Choice word #1 Weary 11/24/21