Tender as I start my week,
A journey with no ember.
Dreary days be all the same,
Pointless to remember.
Stale memories domineer the maze,
Being the errors of my ways.
Vainly suffer through the days,
Praying to God it's just a phase.
Sentence keeps extending.
Worries, upwardly trending,
Mind is constantly fending,
Demons from ascending.
Dead memories all that reign.
Relentless, they still remain,
Loved ones presume I feign
Day by day, going insane.
Praying for death of this phase.
Endless wallow through fog and haze.
Long and somber be the days
Aimless wander in malaise.
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Comments about this poem (These Days by Alan Browne )
(13 February 1879 - 2 March 1949)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
William Carlos Williams
(17 September 1883 – 4 March 1963)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Rainer Maria Rilke
(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
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