Sitting on the floor again waiting
for a sign or the slightest inkling for
the choice I made to be the right one.
Curling my toes to test the theory that
they can't move individually.
Wondering what I have done with my life.
There was time to make something
of myself and here I am.
Alone and letting my pants be covered in
the sheddings from my dog.
She stares out of the window and acts
as some sort of guard dog.
She does a better job guarding me against
birds and squirrels than I do in
finding something to give my life meaning.
How sad.
Why did I bother to wake up this morning?
YOU ARE READING
Caffeine and Me
PoetryA collection of poetry ranging from brain farts to exploring why I bother getting up in the morning. Most likely there is some form of caffeine to keep me awake (or alert) enough to type my thoughts out regarding my depression, struggles within my d...
