Poor Me Poem by Donna Saphier
Poor Me
I feel down, don't feel to good
Should I go out, don't think I could
My legs are tired, my eyes can't see
What the hell is wrong with me
I think I'll just sit here and think
And pour myself another drink
But every time I try to stand
Back in my seat is where I land
So I'll stay here it's for the best
My body know's it's time for rest
Sunday, January 28, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: sadness
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6/2/2024 10:35:54 AM # 1.0.0.1119
