Punk Nona

Turn Of The Wheel

wading in my own discontent
awaiting some empathy.
They sent me straight
into the lion's den
temptation running high-
just then the siren sounds.
I'm going to be just fine.

Running through my indecencies
there are those who
disapprove; they are not pleased with
my performance...
I'll just brush it off;
I'm thinking for and of myself
this time.

Words whispered and unconcluded
thought patterns
rummage through my brain
There's not anything more to this.
I'm tired of waiting
waiting for that epitome.

Listing off needs and wants
and the thin, thin line between;
Taking inventory of inner scars
and wounds I've let fester...
time to heal; time to re-evaluate.
Simple as that.

And this is me
what I was
What I've become
What I will be

I'm not apologetic
any longer.
It's a simple turn of the wheel.

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Poem Edited: Sunday, February 13, 2011

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Robert Frost

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening



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