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Nov 2022
I'm Eeyore. A dark cloud's
hanging over me, raining wine and
poetry. I won't leave the house. The sun
doesn't rouse me. I can't even leave

my bedroom. I'm so drowsy. Every day
is the same, lousy. Pulling the blankets
over my head, sinking in as a hibernating
bear. I'd like this year to disappear. It's a task

to brush my teeth, wash my face,
and join the human race. Men tell me to snap
out of it. Look at the bright side of things!
Count your blessings! But I'm a slug. And this

world is a treadmill looping around
and moving the ground under my feet. Colorful
collage of mixed messages scrambled together
that I can't encode. Slipping through my hands
like a muddy toad.
sandra wyllie
Written by
sandra wyllie  56/F
(56/F)   
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