Blues

Don’t feel like eating,

Don’t feel like writing,

Can’t stop the crying,

Can’t fight the sucking down, down,

no name, no reason,

try to think outward, of others,

but it’s gripped me and I’m drowning.

It will pass away eventually,

always does,

like storms, and hurricanes,

it hits without warning, wreaks devastation

and moves on,

leaving the work of reconstruction

to be done as best it can.

Darker than the blues,

no light, or sun or stars,

just tears, scattered across my cheeks

like dandelions on the lawn.

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