Bad

Bad days that happen.

Not good,
Not good at all,
When tears flow
for reasons that elude me,
when I am in my own way.
Bad,
Bad this dark place in my mind,
That only threatens to throw me
down deeper again,
where I wonder if I truly saw the
edge where the light had waited.
Heavy,
My weary tired being,
Heavy to lift up,
Get up,
Stand up by myself,
Afraid that it may be seen.
Bad day,
This is day that I prefer not to
repeat or remember,
afraid my eyes betray my
failing strength,
that she may see the true weakness
of my soul.
Fallen,
Fallen from what seemed so high,
Not ready to lie down for what is
wanted of me,
for the constant snarl of the beast
that hides in the dark corners of my
mind,
lost to the pain it brings my being.
Lost,
Another day lost to a cloud that lays
heavily on me,
like this blanket that holds me down,
twists around me and makes me
howl against it.
Bad,
Bad day this is.