pq − qp = h/(2πi) ~ Thursday, November 13, 2025

This life is hell, as the metaphor goes
honestly, no words could describe the pain
in sorrow for so many years, decades
shift the meaning from not bad to who knows

literally, what I feel, suffering
if not physically, all the time, the bane
for growing up was not high school or grades
entering adulthood with no guidance

instilled at an early age, buffering
shock and impact, at a total loss, mind

holds on to the good, as a child, and left
eclipsed and in darkness, totally blind
literally, no, but I am bereft
left alone by family, I made my stance

against dysfunctional behaviors, grind
salt and pepper for the holidays, sad

to feel like an estranged scapegoat, brilliant
hell, as a metaphor, brings light to mind
exit happiness, joy, and love, enter

mindfulness to reflect on just how bad
emptiness feels to cope with hope as scant
table manners reveal uncertainty
as a principle, to hold the center
presents the falconer observe unheard
horrors, as if they were suddenly deaf
only if the blind and deaf saw and heard
reality from treble and bass clef

given the rules are without certainty
objects in mirror are closer, sparrow
eating crumbs off the ground, everyone knows
simply shot like a deer with an arrow

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