
Crack in the Door
my breath, nearly held
in the silence true
engulfing starless walls
burdens heavily my shoulders
at times, a tormenting ache
at times, a distant pang
perhaps some faulty cerebral wiring
brings on the gloom
the isolating funk
leaving me stymied
fuming, at times, angry
as to why, to what end
still, the glow of assurance
from the crack in the door
softens the hurt
picture and poem © 2014 by DC Lessoway
Posted in: Life, Philosophy, poetry, Psychology, writing