Mom is gone,
And the dog is in her bed.
It’s been a while
Since my phone rang.
But that’s alright,
I suppose.
The sky is gray,
And my eyes are red.
It’s beginning hard to tell
What day it’s not.
But that’s alright,
I suppose.
My mind is running dry,
And the rain puts me to sleep.
Guess I’ll give it up
With all this thinking.
But everything will be alright,
I suppose.
Apr 8, 2025
Apr 8, 2025 at 6:10 PM UTC
Mom is gone,
And the dog is in her bed.
It’s been a while
Since my phone rang.
But that’s alright,
I suppose.
The sky is gray,
And my eyes are red.
It’s beginning hard to tell
What day it’s not.
But that’s alright,
I suppose.
My mind is running dry,
And the rain puts me to sleep.
Guess I’ll give it up
With all this thinking.
But everything will be alright,
I suppose.
A lost poem from 2021
