I read somewhere recently
to release all my sorrows and anger
I must start by going within. Finding
that place where it all goes away.
My question to you is, is who are you
to say my worries can be
scrubbed away like dirt on a dish,
when they feel more like infections to
quarantine like a plague. When I
venture deep inside behind my
mental consciousness I find it crowded
like a busy city street.
I wander lost in the sounds and smells
surrounded by my illusions of
the human spirit. I fade into the
background of my mind.
I reach for a hand to help
me on my way, but I must climb the staircase
of self-doubt before I find my
own way out.