It's been four weeks, since we last did speak
and you told me to go away, that I couldn't stay...

Ugh!
The sound...

I am fatigued...
world weary and oh-so-dreary...

Life is a furnace of memories,
as each day passes by...

I have a friend, poor dear,
who dons an acheing head i fear...

I'm one step closer, to the horison.
With the dawn of the morrow...

Death better be better than boredom, better be...

I have a question which I wish to state,
in this rhyme-free poem with no fancy condiments...

Early morning yawns and stretches her arms,
groaning as the realization of a new day dawns on...

Wild swirling gale,
intoxicate my being...

Something in the air-
draws me into a dark abyss...

I'm just a silly old soul.
Writing about what my mind deems appropriate...