The Usual Whining

My spirits deflate. Small wonder.
The weather's disgusting, too windy,
Too rainy, too cold. My various joints,
Mostly my wrists, radiate pain with
A steadiness and an intensity nearly
So strong as the sun. I'm not keen
To keep living, and surely not here.
If I must carry on, fly me out
To Malaysia, where I can drink
Heavily, sprawled on a beach, too
Far gone to remember this pain.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 37 times
Written on 2023-11-21 at 03:27

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D G Moody The PoetBay support member heart!
As someone who shares constant pain, that could be alleviated by a hot dry climate - can I come with you?

alarian The PoetBay support member heart!
a clinical description
I enjoyed sipping the suffering through your page
(just kidding if I might say so)

The whining may be usual, but its one I echo as well