It’s a conundrum, and I can’t let go,

I’m here; I’m there; I’m everywhere?

Contained with no frame in times of space

Where I always feel out of place.

I’ve become accustomed to the doldrums

Made numb and dumb

To march to the beat of a drum

Situation—unwelcome

Being flung from above

void of love.

I’m done with the humdrum.

Ho hum…

I’d like to be sprung

Even if it means I’m Flung

into new spaces of time.

Where I don’t have to run

troubled and lonesome

& Succumb to dumdums.

The vandalism, pessimism, now hummin’, rumblin’, bubblin’ to combustion

My lyricism evokes criticism because I sound like Dr. Seus.

Well, maybe I am the organism synced to,

capable of creating a cataclysm

OR

The outcome: Strugglin’, Stumblin’, Mumblin’, Climbin’ to    OPTIMISM?


Cataclysm Photo by Pavel Neznanov on Unsplash

Space Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash

Combustion Photo by Martin Adams on Unsplash

Ladder Photo by Armand Khoury on Unsplash