Confessions


Lonely is a place I surely do go,
Where this may be rain, wind or snow-
Where I sit by some window or a standing tree,
Glancing out to the lonely to be.
Sadness is a place I have gone before,
Where land has seen it many times or more-
Where we have sobbed and shared the shoulder,
Where sadness seemed to be a heavy boulder.
Anger is a place I have visited twice,
Where couples and ventures seemed to suffice.
Where we placed words and tools, broken from ice-
Where anger played, making us vice.
Depression is a place I visit most often,
Writing my tales about the deer and the dolphin-
Taking my thoughts away from life's mold,
As this place seems to keep a strong hold.
Amnesia is a place I went one time,
Where I remember not about emotions or rhyme.
Not knowing where I sit, my name or the next line,
Taking a last drink of my next forgetful wine.

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