Little Man

Tomorrow has come and no sun shines. Graven images, dreaded morn. Illogical displacement of rational. I whince as I crumble beneath my eyes, as I crumble. I close my eyes. I whisper "I believe" three times to myself to relieve the numbness in my bones. Question my good intentions because I'm left alone with them again. I questioned my heart and soul that turned you cold. But its all turned around...Ironed out five years in five hours after five years. Ironed out five years in five hours after five years of stumbling around with the one question of "Am I worth the expression ?" Ironed out in the late summer breeze all that drove me to my knees, inadequacies, bouts of rage covered with tarps of silence since that day I died inside...but now that that time has died, I can appreciate being alive. I have learned to love what's inside.