Trenches of the Psyche

The air warms and lifts…
The same air cools and drops in defeat…
When I think about it…
I realize the air is me…

Puffed up like a parachute…
Healing the sick like Theraflu…
But then the pin missiles strike…
And the truth is – I’m only a hot air balloon…

The waters are spread wide…
And it is the winds that turn the tide…
That reminds me that I have a spirit…
But the craziness of my mind would rather I not hear it…

How many licks to the center of a tootsie pop?
Could take seconds, minutes, or perhaps even days…
This life is such a rope, and I’m so tied up in knots…
My only prayer is that the good Lord would take me away.

~The Wordsmith

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