May 30th, 1985

I'm sorry you're hurting

I'd help if I could

I feel your pain

But tell me why I should.



Dear Existence,

Answer me . . .

When will I

Ever be free?

Happiness is a strange myth

In my world of sorrow

I live each day as it comes

Dreading each tomorrow



I dream my dreams at night when I sleep.

I keep my wishes hidden down deep.





Pinning a wish to my wall.

Looking inside my crystal ball.

Dreaming a dream day and night

Is like sitting in the dark, yet seeking the light.





I can not write a happy poem

As I have said before.

I can not think a happy thought

I can not anymore.

So I sit here for hours

With death in my head

Writing many sad poems

Wishing I were dead.

Blizzard Skies 1985