Fields Of Sorrow Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Tired of this lonely shell, being alone for time
immemorial, staking no claims in future plans of
destiny.

Weary of wending my way through darkened hallways
in buildings of remorse and feckless immortality.

Watching with less than perfect vision, ulterior
motives of a mind, lost in memories of lasting
grief.

Revolving a lifetime around a centeredness hidden
inside a ghost of a person, trying desperately to
hold onto a life that brings no peace or easing
of eternal stress.

Always exercising in fields of sorrow, trying to
fit it's expectations, yet failing miserable on a
momentary basis.