I wanted someone to hear me shout for help
as recently recalled
when yours truly a little barking whelp.

After conversing with Amélie Beth
(yesterday February 26th, 2021)
yes, the same sibling diagnosed
with nodule on her right lung
chatted with said family member.

Her brother (yours truly), could not sleep
last night/early this morning
what would ewe expect
this rambunctious poet do... count sheep?

Okay... wool ye go ahead and lambaste me!?

Ordinarily counting backwards from one hundred
helps trigger rem memorable cycles
(never if ever rarely reaching zero -
cipher, nought, the big goose egg...)
usually does the magic, (albeit cheap trick)
constituting one garden variety supertramp,
who within blink of eyelash nods off to dreamland
succumbing and submerging into subconscious.

More so the latter half
(regarding unsainted) days
of mein kampf
lived more satisfactorily
meaning emotions shared
between yours truly
and family members.

Suddenly important for me
(at approximately 743.999 months
athwart planet Earth)
to finagle acknowledgement
constituting care and concern
regarding welfare of loved ones.

Rather, a necessity to unleash
pent up sentiments activating
"**** the torpedoes,
full speed ahead!"

An injustice to myself
and deprivation to recipient, i.e. Amélie
(who accidentally, inadvertently,
and unwittingly triggered feelings
of grievousness, ire, joy... )
to act adamant and withhold
for whom the bell tolled
valuable unpleasant turmoil
or heavenly bliss within
mine psychological state
most therapists and/

or self actualized individual
would concur if polled
wisest, loveliest and healthiest
personal choice to share
lest internalized heart wrenching dilemma
compromise palpable mutual
(of Omaha) kith thing catharsis
freeing restrained pent up angst
kinship therapeutic as “Wild Kingdom,”

whereby respective psyche
constituting uber brotherly spirit
doth lyft among soundcloud
shutterflying amidst
imagined lilies of field
engendering region knolled
king dome united, extolled
and linkedin courtesy nirvana.