by Captain Lonesome   Mar 30, 2022

Time swallowed by suppressive smog,
To much of it spent in a depressive fog.

Lingering about without a destination,
Stuck fast, froze by hesitation.

Shackled with chains worry and doubt,
Fearing hope may never again sprout.

Maybe, just maybe something has changed,
Some cosmetic energies rearranged.

Perhaps it just a slight passing whim,
Conceivably this too could turn out grim.

Positivity seems to be the faintest bit thicker,
I truly hope it out to be more than a flicker.


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