Rough day Rough night If I could live In my bath Water would never

Filler words Put me to sleep Added to cushion Take away my pillow Blunt words to wake up

How can I write how I feel When what I feel is nothing? How can I tell you what I need, What is wrong? When what is wrong

A palomino gallops Beside the highway Look out the window Rides over green hills Through yellow flowers

I am unique In so many ways But while variety excites What we look for Is our common thread

By nature high-strung But I thought I was strong If not physically, emotionally For things to roll off my back Be mature and take the high road

My poems are short Written at night In my head I wake at dawn Shake my memory

I wallow in my sadness As it pools up It has not swallowed me Who floats above its surface This surface