Poetry

One errand after another.

One gets done.

On to the nest one.

Phone calls to make.

Offices to visit.

Things to buy.

People to drop off.

Only one person to do them all.

Don’t even mention the cleaning.

Random words

tossed down

The page fills up

Nothing of importance

Tidbits of daily life

What makes a good poem

a poem

Can I rhyme

or is freestyle the way to go

What difference

from shaking and shivering

with only the large fleece blanket

—-

to immediate warmth

as soon as I smoothed out

the bunched up sheet.

I finally fell asleep.

Mentally exhausted.

Physically sick.

Emotionally stressed.

No wonder I have trouble concentrating.

Oh sorry, that is just my ADHD.

No coffee this morning.

No sleep last night.

Food has not been eaten.

The mood is strife.

I don’t understand my feelings tonight.

All I do is cry and laugh as I cry.

ADHD special.

I am specifically told

not to do something.

Like do not put eggshells

in the potted RavenZZ plant.

A few months later,

while shelling eggs

I dump the eggshells

in the plants pot.

A month later

as it is dying

I see the eggshells

and remember

“oh right, they were not supposed to be there!”

Now my friend

is trying to undo the damage I did.

The weather yesterday

was so nice.

Warm and a little breezy.

This morning

once again,

when I am scheduled to meet my friend,

it is cold

and the wind chills you to the bone.

As daunting as the task may seem

You need to do you!

If your bucket is empty

you need to refill it with things that make you happy.

Otherwise, those emptying it out

will fill it with something

you do not want.

Crisis mode

is something I can not get out of.

I see the light at the end of the tunnel

but then detours and cross sections

run me off track.

Making my way to the end

is so difficult

and I am so very tired.

The thought came to me.

Hours ago.

It resounded throughout my head.

Yet, now when I try to recall this brilliant idea

All that comes up is mystery.