Canyon
By Zapedice
Cornered my soul with complexities.
Again.
Illistrations seem to explain.
My selves laundry baskets unkempt.
Piled high with fabric deep.
Each thought an outfit and mismatched socks.
Coloreds and whites mixing in violation of segrigation.
Deliberations illistrated thus.
But apt are the complications devised.
Stomach turning revolutions and self made lies.
No Martin Luther to give a dream.
A detergent to clean house lacking.
Again.
That is how it can be described.
I guess.
Asking if I will ever finish the wash.
Piled high round my corner.
Fortlike impenatrable thing.
A nest of my own creation.
Throwing out the simple soulution.
But we grow attached to favorite shirts of despair.
Hopelessness bourne stealing bleaching power.
I have made this even complicated.
Attempts to understand made obscure.
Such is my trap.
Again.
Simple simple simple.
I am backed in a corner.
I see no escape.
In a canyon.
Of my own deliberate make.
Again.
(
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