The struggle to find
some purpose in this world,
a sense of belonging that
can leave my soul unfurled.
A reason to get up
in the morning
with a spring in my step,
to go and face the day
without the need for any prep.
Instead the hours drag by
leaving my spirits low,
I don’t have anyone to
talk to or no place to go.
Locked away I am
just left here to rot,
it’s no one else’s fault
I deserve what I got.
The 50 year old poet 