Gyroscopic Poem by Jerry Buckley

December sky morphs from sullen toward soggy
And woebegone eyes from forlorn toward foggy
My downcast visage sets up, distant to deeper
The simple truth is, I'm unworthy to keep her

There's a chasm divides us, grown wide with neglect
A gap in our union, far too frayed to correct
Ripped apart by resentments that well up inside
Such unspoken words found so convenient to hide

Weary I waiver, from locked down toward dizzy
My thoughts gyroscopic, all mind-bending busy
Groping for some semblance, some sense of balance
Scratching at my scabs of self-pity and malice

Blindly I stumble, as though enveloped in fog
Forsaking the pathways, I slog through the bog
The north wind curses at me and I'm blown off track
Oh my God, how I wish she could want to come back

'Voice of One' @ Jerry Buckley