Of What Is The Use?
Moments like this bother me some.
Near to four in the morning
and another night spent
with the darkness glaring in at me
from outdoors while I sit here
in fluorescent splendor,
guilty in the light of nothing showing
for the time spent here.
I am not understanding
the problems I am having
with this new design,
and I am not in the least bit
happy as a result.
Each corner is a new turn,
and each turn leads
to an new brick wall,
and there is no finding a way
around or through or over that wall,
or any of them, for that matter.
Comments on this poem/writing:
Click here to read other Poems by Shiloh
Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack
COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved. No part of this website, including all pictures and written words, may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without permission of the original author of the work. All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner. All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail: email@example.com so the proper person may be notified.