Piles Of Turmoil Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Falling into an avalanche of rocks,
being pounded into entries of hell
beneath the earth.

Wallowing existentially in pits of
self-pity and remorse.

Covering myself with it's particles,
keeping me hidden inside of piles of
turmoil, unable to return to life.

Positioning everything into lines,
never aligning any of them correctly.

Keeping sounds buried throughout life's
endeavors, finding no reason to unbury
any of it.

Solemnly giving me a self-preservation
of sorts.