Ode To Festering Poem by Sarah Sisson

I'm always thinking about something.
It's range is important to dumb thing.

And my brains a scary neighborhood
though I know what is bad from the good.

And when I'm just driving or alone,
I whisk my mind off to that dead zone....

..of beating myself up for something.
No good comes forth from this; no gift bring.

So then why do I sit and fester?
It serves no purpose no fine gesture.

But I know this is just a form of
insanity that I am not above.

Copyright 12-22-2008 ©® Sarah Sisson