So easily I slide
Into an old chenille robe
Slouching to accept defeat
Feeling each past failure’s probe

My isolation morphs
Into alienation
I slip into a winter
Of my discontent again

Familiar imprint there
Tattooed backside on the couch
A negative reminder
Under dark shrouds of self-doubt

Passively sinking
Wallowing in all things bleak
Difficulties must precede
Enlightenment that I seek

Can’t hardly lift my feet
Both beneath my tree-log legs
I shuffle with some coffee
Time to empty out the dregs

After the longest day
I kick takeout boxes aside
I ricochet off balance still
No fall comes without any pride