TWENTIETH

TWENTIETH

A spiral of gloom

In my own living room

Grips me

And the afternoon unfolds 

The twentieth is near

A month of no cheer

Has passed

Since the axe finally fell

A month of nothing achieved

Not quite true - I have breathed

About

What my future might hold

Confidence swiftly shatters

Believing you don’t matter

In a world 

So confusingly strange

Yet we still soldier on

Despite not having begun 

To find

Those peculiar answers we seek

And whilst we plod through these days

In something of a haze

We know 

Something will have to be done 

MAWH, 191219