Basket Of Grief Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

A deluge of rain pouring into imagination,
drowning my appetite for solitary confinement.

Leaving me in an unweaving basket of solemn
grief.

Tossing about on a sea of tidal waves brought
on by a loneliness deep inside where I will
always hide because I'm shy.

Having no way to break through and be myself
alone without any frills or misguided choices
to call my own.

Standing solitarily on desert plains, upending
nothing and wishing for a place to call my own
in the middle of a desert oasis.