Unadapted Personhood Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Morning has take it's stand in the realm of the universe,
forwarding the light everyone needs to see with, scattered
forever are bits and pieces of the night before.

Likelihood of anything clearly beginning is misunderstood
and is always forgotten in the lies of personhood.

Adapting to many stresses of the world, collapsing inward,
trying to be good.

Without, the insanity of a world gone mad continues to
scramble and spin out of control.