Same thoughts….different years. sigh


The First Three Weeks


Early Hours:

 I’m climbing back from a hole that was black

But I’m not exactly sure what I think about that

Inside & Outside:

 I tell them all what they all want to hear

But I’m not really sure that I make myself clear


 To fix my soul, each day I plan – one tiny little goal

But then it seems each day I fix just what I can’t control

The System:

They told me all that I must do

They gave me meds so I won’t be blue

But when I try to carry through

They say “Oh no we are not for you”


 Poor Eliza’s dear old Alfred P

Was in some ways exactly like me

Yet he was happy, he did not want more,

So unlike him I do deplore

That I am part of the undeserving poor



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