One of those days. <br />Do I need to tell you? <br />Like some invisible burden <br />to do with humanity or something <br />personal, imagined, no clue, <br />pressing down, tensing the back, <br />can barely walk a straight line, <br />face full of repressed anger <br />about what I don’t know, <br />then yawning with the weariness <br />of doing nothing <br />so how to deal with it <br />if you don’t know <br />who laid it on you <br />or why <br /> <br />opened the paper <br />almost too bored to do that, <br />read the story of how <br />he won the VC, top honour, <br />very rare <br />and what it’s been like since <br /> <br />reckoned if I can cry like this <br />something must be alright <br />somewhere <br /> <br />I’m OK now. You?<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-pig-of-a-clich-day/
