Who Cares?

Another bitter morning.
Sleigh rides and ringing bells
Still echo in my head.
I roll out of bed.

Yet another sour day.
The whole point defeats me.
How can there ever seem to be a point?
The sun is too bright.

And the grass is too unforgiving.
How could those poets
Of so long ago lay here?
What inspiration comes?

Hardship is too hard.
The price to pay for
One beautiful day is much more
Than should be spent.

My peace is too dangerous.
Think of what we could do,
If we had all the time we needed
To do it.

No good, no good
Could ever come
From an imagination
Flooded without inhibition.

I grimace.
I shout.
Why would I want to be here?
There is no reason.

I grimace.
I yell.
But they don't tell me
What this is all about.

So who cares?