pesado

Gravity like lead, could I be dead?
Can’t focus my mind, can’t feel my legs
Worn down to the wire and way past the treads
I’m beginning to think I’m whatever they said
Eyes half-closed, can’t get out of bed
What faces me otherwise or stands in my stead
Fills me with fear that I’m frozen to dread
What grade would I get? Is it marked up in red?
It’s getting harder to breathe, someone please call a med
I’m in a crowd full of grooms and the only unwed
Away from home for weeks and the fish haven’t been fed
Maybe manna from heaven or just molded old bread
Perspective is vigilant if I can just lift my head
No more squares to triangles or tents without pegs
I’m sure I’m not dead and my Dad has more than once said
This heavy expression is all in my head.

(c) 2006 kenn bivins