FUNK AND JUNK… a silly poem

I sit and ponder

And sometimes cry

Sometimes I laugh

I don’t know why

man sitting on chair

The confusion that’s swirling

Inside my head

Keeps my hopes alive

Which is better than dead

And if I put things off

Just a little bit more

Then tomorrow creeps in

Faster than before

silhouette photography of mountain during golden hour

So maybe I’ll concentrate

And work through this funk

And like a slow computer

Delete all the junk

garbage bags on the floor

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