I can feel it again
the Shuddering.
The melancholy
clouds of this
Poet’s depression
seem to smother
Me.

Death where is your sting?
I can’t feel it through this iron-clad
Apathy.

Thoughts race like unrestricted
Shadows.
Guilt
Fear
Anger
Mistrust

My long winded bedfellows
Their stench comes long
Before three days
This should be good news

God ******* ******!

Why am I on the floor again?
Sobbing
Chest heaving
Lungs burning
Throat sore?



                           Or is this just in my head too?

Of course, you’re a man
Strong backed and even
Stronger willed
Stand tall and firm
Steel yourself.

I shall steal myself
Away.

I know so little
And
Feel even less.
So I’m left
sitting here


                  shuddering.