I am arguing with myself again, the most
Beautiful pale winter sky out my window,
A warm fire burning a few feet away
From me. Sausages cooking, I've nowhere
To go, no chores that are urgent. I have
A new job. There's some cash in the bank,
And my back isn't aching. Everything's fine.
It's a wonderful day. No, it's not. Everything's

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2020-01-14 at 16:23

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Coo & Co The PoetBay support member heart!
This is very well written, Larry. Members of Coo & Co are fortunate not to experience depression (at present), but we have an inkling that the expression 'arguing with myself' is particularly apt. As ever, we are drawn into the entire scene due to your knack for description :>)