Nothing but the stars to guide
But the sky’s been hazy
Like my thoughts
Foggy
Clarity elusively avoiding me
One stumble forward
Then I stagger back
Ain’t showered in a week and half
Unkempt
Unshaven
“Unclean! Unclean!”
The children shout
The women weep
Just smile and nod
Keep eyes low
Don’t let them know
You’re trying your best
Like a three legged dog
Garnering sympathy equally with ire
And a pelting of stones
Or the occasional scraps from the table
Of gristle and skins of potatoes
For which I am grateful
And I’ll wake up tomorrow
Harboring no ill will
Against my fellow man
Ready to share a cigarette with anyone I can
Who wants one?
Sometimes I think God is trying to sing
To me or through me
But I’m tone deaf
And struggle with the melody
About the Creator
Aaron Morrison
Mad Lib it:
Born during a (___natural disaster___), Aaron spends his free time exploring (___unusual location (plural) ___) and raising domesticated (___fictional creature (plural)___).
Author of Miscellany Farrago
insta: @theaaronmorrison
Keep reading
More stories from Aaron Morrison and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments (1)
This description of a tough situation really hits home. It makes me think about how hard life can be for some. I've had my own rough patches where things seemed hopeless. Like when a project at work went wrong, and I had to scramble to fix it. How do you think the person in this piece can find the strength to keep going, despite all the hardships they face? And what role does that sense of gratitude play in their perseverance?