The smell of death and decay,
of the lonliness and cold,
has left me feeling very weak,
and even more so old.
So I sit here by my lonesome,
tapping key after key,
trying to express myself,
To help me clearly see.
For I do not know what I wish to say,
which feelings I must show,
I write to try to find that out,
so eventually I'll know.
It's been said that knowledge is power,
that without it men are lost,
So I'm trying to enlighten myself,
I'm willing to pay the cost.
To understand what's going on,
inside of my own head,
If I can't accomplish that today,
I should've stayed in bed.
© Jon E. Reina 26 April 2003