Leaded eyelids.
Heavy with sand.
Forget about the
garbage, it can wait
until next week.
Putting things off is a
major accomplishment,
so is opening your eyes.
Emotionally spent.
Holidays have passed.
Reality sinks in like the
frozen chilled fingers
of January's grip. All is
not lost. It takes time
to shed the joyful
clothing of December.
Greeting the new year
with the scepticism
of an old farmer.
Not quite sure if it's
any better but willing
to say "I told you so."
in the end. Years of
despair I suppose.
I live in the quiet
reflection that life
leaves for dreamers.
Many years spent in
ambitious endeavors.
Sitting back now I think,
what have I been doing
all these years?
Beginning to wonder
where this is all going?
Words represent the
thoughts circling aimlessly
in your crowded mind.
It makes you think...
"What the hell
am I saying?"
Writing without
purpose. Thinking
without knowing.
Trying to fill the
pages of a brand
new empty year.
Wondering if there
really is a difference.
The End
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