bereft of a giddy up

tangled in the asinine balm

of frivolous words that drip

from my chin as if I were just

a babbling blathering infant

there's no salve solution for

wounds that keep opening,

for silly scrawls of suffering

and lopsided lethargic loving

a yawn into the wind wiping

watery eyes stinging rub-red

and I laugh a little at the fool

I've become through the years

how many lessons unlearned

learning to fail better, best

bereft of a giddy up in my step

stopping just shy of quitting

(Image from facebook)