My every muscle hurts.
I fight my eyes for sight.
It seems my day just starts...I blink
and once again it's night.
...
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Mary-I can relate so well to this poem. It really moved me. I love your style of writing and can tell you write from the heart.
Mary.....very nice indeed! Imaginative substance in quite a prolific description that denotes familiar impediments yet allows one a cryptic camouflag of arcane identities denied yet restored through prima facie dissimulation, prevarication and of course very good imagination! With kind thoughts, Louise Bizzari
I know that feeling Mary, it seems it's with one permanently. It's worse as you get older, time just disappears between day and night. Very nice poem to read. Sincerely Ernestine
Mary, this is sooooo well done. I love the line about smelling the roses... great poem! ! Brian