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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 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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