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Monday, October 10, 2005

What Am I To Do?

My clothes are torn.
My shoes are through.
And I can't figure out what's going on.
But what am I to do?

My house is a shambles.
My garden a jungle.
Why does this happen to me always?
And what am I to do?

My life is a mess.
My character's in question.
Where the hell did I go wrong?
And what am I to do?

My wife has left me.
The kids are gone too.
Is this 'the life'?
What can I possibly do?

My boss really hates me.
My colleagues kick my ass.
Why do I deserve this?
And what am I to do?

My yoga instructor ran away.
And the yoga class thinks I'm gay.
What was I supposed to bloody say?
And now what do I do?

Picking it up, ever so slowly.
Holding it up, to my head.
Thinking about the life that had been;
Wishing for the life that I could have had, yet.

Precious moments, ticking away slowly.
Beads of sweat, trickling down.
Flashing memories, no reason to smile.
Happiness replaced by sorrow; a frown.

Still listening to the clock.
Still hearing every heartbeat.
Still caressing the trigger.
Still...as still can be.

Now I'm too chicken to die,
And too frightened to live.
My life is a bad joke.
Whatever can I do?

Strangers laugh at me.
Beggars throw me loose change.
Pride is only a word to me.
What should I, or could I do?

This day was hellish.
The night, no better.
But still I smile at the rising sun
Because, well, that's what I do.
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