There is no place I'd rather be
No place concerns or interests me
Just existing, here, right now
Dragging on each day, somehow

"how heavy is your load?" says I
"quite heavy, thanks" - the bored reply
"what would make your burden less?"
"not a thing, I must confess"

There is no joy I'd rather feel
Nothing compares to this endless wheel
Just rolling, onward, every day
No change, no point, no better way

"odd, so soon you've quit on me"
"odd, you care" a hidden plea
"stop this mournfulness, desist"
"cease this life or death insist?"

There is no pain I'd rather know
No world where I would gladly go
Just take up space, pay life's expense
Chaotic mind fabricating sense

There is no place I'd rather be
None but no existence for me
Selfish, I know, and blind, I see
Such thoughts would doom me eternally

--/Loneal 06Mar2005, 0130L KU/--

If you [Log In] as a member you can discuss this work with others