The Sickness
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Poem
The day starts; she’ll be fine…so much to do.
She’ll make a list, but those things can wait until she does
such and such.
She’s dreading the moment that she’ll be alone.
The day goes; soon he’ll leave, but it’s ok;
She needs the quiet to do
such and such.
As soon as she’s alone.
The day turns; night is coming,
maybe she’ll just watch some TV with dinner, then after she’ll do
such and such.
She hates to be alone.
The day ends.
So much undone.
So much to do.
At least she’s not alone.
more by VK LYNNE
photograph by Benjamin Combs
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