Friday, 6 April 2012


I scrape my motivation off the floor –

Pretend that I can face another day.

I might appear to go on as before,

But am not really here. What can I say?

It’s self-indulgent to write poetry

Like this, so I try not to, but I fail.

I realise that this is "me, me, me".

Who are these other people who all sail

Through life? They have problems, too. I know that.

Start with compassion. That’s what Buddha said.

What conclusion am I to arrive at?

Who knows? Must drag myself out of this bed

Each day, and it is getting very hard to.

I guess that it is just the same for you.

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