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Like a Glass Dishpan
June 6, 2010
As I sit here in the corner frowning,
with your picture in my mind.
I ask myself how could I have been so blind.
In misery, I'm drowning.
I cannot explain this feeling.
Your smile, laugh, and hair
they have all gone elsewhere.
I stop and look up at the ceiling.
Only when I stopped to think about it
I realized that it was over before it began.
But I would never admit
just sitting here like a dead man.
Lost and exposed, I felt like a dimwit,
broken like a glass dishpan.
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