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Song of Myself


These lights are too bright.                                                                                                                               The lids of my eyes feel like warm                                                                                                               comforting blankets when I shut them.

Did I even sleep or did I dream of tossing and turning all night?                                                               Icy chills roll over my skin; my blankets never seem to be long enough.

I walk lifelessly through the d(r)ead of morning on my way,                                                                 cold and indifferent.

Ghost streets with bad drivers wear the same inanimate face as me                      

The stale bitter air burns my nostrils as the sun peeks over the horizon.

warmth                                                                                                                                                           light                                                                                                                                                                   life                                                                                                                                                                         (e)motion                                                                                                                                                                beauty                                                                                                                                                             rise with the radiant sun

Smiling faces, head nods and warm handshakes.                                                                                       A new day bringing joy for something else to complain about.                                                                 I can’t wait to go, but where I end up I want to escape.

Blazing through the day happily in a grouchy mood.                                                                               Inviting negativity like an oversized check at the front door.                                                                     And giving away my optimism like they were kittens.

Stuck in the middle of whirling and whizzing                                                                                             crowds of confusion                      

Time speeds by,                                                                                                                                                 the sun turns red                                                                                                                                             then takes a slow dive into the west.

Birds make themselves scarce along with others who turn to prey in the night.

The sweet smell(s) of familiarity take hold of me as I step into my home.                                                  The moon rears its head and the stars appear along with it.

In search of solitude and comfort I drown myself in music.                                                                         Watching the window, skipping through

Then the final hour strikes                                                                                                                            and my eyeballs start to feel heavier than my eyelids can fit.

sweet thoughts soon to be forgotten trickle into my conciousness                                                           the clock quikens into the darkness

 

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JamesJ.Robinson

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