my suitcase of calamity
my many faceted streams
they linger on in screams
they echo in my dreams
just waiting for a time to rise again;
they cycle through the bog
that terrorizes my mind
it happens all the time
i wish that i could find
a way to stop it from continuing;
you’d think the horror show
would have ended with the decades
but still there are the parades
the tortuous evening charades
that keep me haunted and afraid
to drift off to a peaceful place;
someday i’ll find that magic spell
that coin dropped in a wishing well
the balm that halts the ringin’ bell
and sees me stand in strength
to greet a morning at full length…