From where do waves of sadness come
When all is going well,
That, “Pull the covers overhead
And disappear,” type hell

No rhyme, not even reason,
No logic to be found,
Just wallowing and sinking low
Into non-fertile ground

Shut out the world,
Shut out the lights,
Shut out the constant questions

Why am I this?
Why do I that?
Why paths that lack attention?

Am I to do the bidding
Of this soul that I encase,
When all the while the outer world
Spits squarely in my face?

I do believe, I always have
And will continue to,
But then these waves, these rhythmic fiends
Wash out my will to do

But carry on I will, I will
One short step at a time
And when I’m asked the reason why
I’ll tell them, “It’s to rhyme.”

~ Leana Delle
Sunday, April 14, 2019
2019 Sunday Poetry Challenge – Number fourteen of fifty-two