my poem
dejection devours appetite;despondency depletes thoughts.
perhaps it's merely the curse,
of drawing unlucky lots.
full of whimsy; wishes are.
a slight deviation
and it leaves a scar.
take me to the playground,
swing me up high.
i will show you
my fingers meet the sky.
sacrifices subsist on a void;
an average being is the veracity.
treading with trepidation
on dangerous waters
perplexity pursues perpetually.
make me a believer of lies.
then believing wont pain.
with a simper and a scoff,
we'll laugh it all off
and the earth resumes revolving again.
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