the reality of my life seems empty
this getting dressed and going to work
in awe of others who act with a joyful purpose
this purpose of work, of friends, of family.
i was telling myself i must direct my life
into a safe, structured box.
perhaps a comfortable 2-bedroom condo box
with a playroom
for a scripted future
i'm supposed to want
scripted by someone else
who wanted to sign my name
as the author
but what doesn't feel right, just isn't right.
so hello again.
by Stephen Pepper
I don't cry in life
So I write instead
A little dark
But its me
Old Words
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