Year After Year
How did I get here?
Year after year
Lead to this
This day full of fear
Fear that I won't say the right things at the funeral
No
Fear that I won't have the right pictures
How crazy
Wasting time in the present to focus on the funeral
I hate it
My computer holds everything but its disorganized
My mind feels disorganized enough already
Oh well
Technology, I hope you can shape things up
past and present
Mostly future
Regret or resent?
Pictures everywhere
Will I find the right ones?
"Every occasion I'll be ready for the funeral"
Again,
How did I get here?
Year after year
Lead to this day of fear.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
