deepundergroundpoetry.com

Hazelnut Calamity

 
The smell of coffee brewing at three,
A fragrance of apathy,
Nights like these,
When I really need the sleep,
I’m up mixing thoughts with sugar and cream,
Hazelnut calamity—

The sound of the clock tick-tocking the hour,
Four AM, mocking hands have devoured,
Mornings like this,
When I really need some bliss,
I sit battling my worth in analogy,
Paper and pen reality—

My mind is my enemy,
Constantly questioning blame and finality,
Consistently thwarting my value,
Times like these,
When I need relief,
I’m praying against it convincing me,
Pleading my sanity—

I’m not looking forward to the day ahead of me,
Saving face to discourse repetitively,
I always fall short in ability,
Days like today,
When I need strength,
Claiming hope as my joy drains my energy,
Grace be my remedy—
Written by Cyn80
Published
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