Sheaf of paper,
Cobweb of thought,
Painfully gathered,
Hand on cheek,
Watching memories pass by,
For the strength
(to be strong)
For the strength
(to carry on)
Silent windowsill,
Dented with time,
Opens up to rememberance,
Undecided,
Ask myself,
What am I doing?
(What is this?)
Are my words
My words,
Just words
Or more?
Driven crazy by the silence,
Sinking fast
(But no one grabs me)
Undecided
Is this mess poetry...or (just) words?

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