Feb 2019
Things are not flying
as smoothly as it used to
the sky seems to fall
wherever I march
the poems I write
are war cries
as I get up once more
as I jump into the fray
once again
as smoothly as it used to
the sky seems to fall
wherever I march
the poems I write
are war cries
as I get up once more
as I jump into the fray
once again
******* I'm exhausted.
