The morning sun’s golden glow
Aside I move my quilt with a throw
Awakened by the rooster’s crow
With a jump out of bed I go

Reaching high for my door
Breakfast! Breakfast!
I cry out for

Almost! I trip
My pajamas still too big
But nothing can stop me
Breakfast’s far too important to skip
Eat! Eat! My mother says
Till you no long twin with a twig

The clock has struck
Both hands at twelve
Long I stare with no luck
Impossible this is - it *****
It’d be easier to know how much
Wood a woodchuck could chuck

Bill after bill it’s almost funny
There never seems to be enough money
Never enough time
Never enough dime
This madness is almost a crime

With a sigh of defeat I rise
Another sigh with a stretch
Bloodshot. The only word to describe my eyes
I open my door with a wretch

Late in the day
With every stand I take
The more sincere my grunt
I never knew my back to so ache
What a symptom to confront

Not much to do as I watch the sun fade
With the bills paid
Dinner made
The dog out-played
All the beds made

To the window I move
To watch the sun set
The day’s no longer long with nothing to prove
Age - I suppose - is all in the mindset

Dinner time has come and gone
To bed with me and a yawn
Till tomorrow to see another dawn

Midnight has struck
Both hands at twelve
The tweety bird tells

Back and forth my rocker speaks in creaks
The tea cup I clutch in both hands
The chamomile brings warmth to my cheeks
Many wrinkles cover them like brands

Exhaustion I feel ~ for it’s been a long day
Soon. I will lay down and rest
My fatigue as obvious as my hair is gray
But no regret lies with me
This day has left me very much blessed

For I got to see the sun’s golden glow
I got to hear the rooster’s crow
I found it funny
When there was no money
I got to watch the sun set
And amend my mindset
And now i’ll rest
After so long of being blessed.

The heaviness in my limbs grow
Each breath costing more than the last
With the pressure behind my eyes I cannot deny

Why dullness? I ask the friends no longer around
Why is it an ache I feel deep down

Meandering through a haze of blue and grey
I wonder to myself when it will fade

Time losing track of itself
Minutes becoming hours
But it does not matter

For no one is around to feel too
If only the sensation of isolation were new

She was Obsidian

but she longed to be diamond
to be mused upon and praised
to be called beauty
to live unyieldingly, unbreakable
to be sought after and desired


but she was dark and hardened
jagged and sharp
extruded from a rupture in the earth
birthed from heat and ash
she was raw and true
and she was breakable.

she was obsidian