DOWN IN THE DUMPS
My heart is in the wastebasket,
a crumpled piece of paper scrawled with ink.
All that I feel or have felt
is in the wastebasket.
My love, my life, my emotions, my tears
are all in the wastebasket.
Tomorrow I will empty the wastebasket.
My heart, my feelings, my love, my life,
my emotions, my tears
will be in the trash.
Then the next day the trash will go
down to the dump
right along with yesterday's trash,
which contained yesterdays waste
of crumpled paper.
So, as I am today, tomorrow I will be
down in the dumps.
And the following day, and the next.
I keep throwing myself away
on a crumpled paper.
One day I will keep those scribbled
letters and poems,
and they will be the release I need
in order to free my soul
so that I am not always
down
in
the
dumps.
___
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