You were to be the
measure for the rest, no won—
der I failed each time.
YOU ARE READING
her gloom
Puisi"I am you, one day out of five, Tired, empty, hating what I carry But afraid to lay it down, stingy, Angry, doing violence to others By the sheer freight of my gloom, Halfway home, wanting to stop, to quit But keeping going mostly out of spite...
Father
You were to be the
measure for the rest, no won—
der I failed each time.
