How I Feel

I’m falling,

I’m tumbling,

I’m plunging

Headlong

Into this bottomless pit of dismal despair.

Don’t know what I’m going to do,

Have no idea where I’m going to go,

Nobody wants what I have to show;

I can no longer distinguish outright lies from hard truth.

I’m a drift,

I’m wandering,

I’m searching

For something solid to grab onto.

A floating fragment of wood,

A genie’s magic kite in the wind!

A bit of information that might be understood;

Oh when

Will this begrudging journey ever end?

A stone,

A bleached bone,

Both arms are wildly flailing!

I’m wailing,

There is not even a sour glimmer of a midnight moon!

I’m grabbing at nothing

Somewhere so deep inside this imperceptible gloom.

Ahead

The bitterly cold winds blow,

Behind

lakes of white hot flames

Leap and rage,

In between

The angry waters flow.

Where is my place on life’s stage?

So I stumble.

I stagger,

I bumble,

I pick along in a drunkard’s swagger.

Am I moving forward?

Might I be walking backward?

Could I be grooving in a circle?

I never intended for such to be so.

When I was young I imagined a place,

A glittering castle,

An envied employed space,

A life free of hassle;

But there was no foot landing to start,

No ladder to climb,

Nary an endearing heart,

No elevator to ride,

No warm guiding hand to grab.

So I floundered,

I wallowed,

My life raft transporting me to my ship crashed ashore!

I was shocked at how friends and everybody were so gelid

As I drifted off into a mysterious shapeless void.

H.L. Dowless is a thirty five year writer who loves travel, exploring, and living life on the edge.