My song

Just a poem

My song.

When I was young

And free and strong

I made a song

With just one word

It was in June

And had one tune

But found out soon

It was absurd.

July, I wrote

Another note

The best, I thought

Was ever heard

August, I knew

Two words were few

So, time was due

To write a third

September days

Were full of haze

blurring displays

My brain was blurred

I was confined

Deep to my mind

Trying to find

Word number three

Winter was bad

Gloomy and sad

All it could add

Was grief to me

But then again

I thought the rain

locked up my brain

Then lost the key

There was a hole

Down in my soul

Deeper than all

Ditches of hell

Letters were fine

Yet were not mine

The bottom line

I was not well.

They disappear

Behind my fear

I look, I hear

But cannot tell

In endless space

I lost my face

And left no trace

Or crumbs of bread

Like anticipated

After I waited

Followed dictated

Orders, as said

What was the use

If that abuse

Was an excuse

For life instead

During the quest

To find a rest

Inside my chest

And in my head

Forgot the note

That I first wrote

And always thought

Best, ever said

Softly a chime

Like babies' rhyme

Time after time

Puts them to sleep

When I was young

And free and strong

I made a song

But could not keep

Was it in June

And had one tune

It's not too soon

Now to find out

What was that word

That was absurd

And no one heard

Really about.