What’s going on;
What’s happening
to me;
Am I wrong;
Is it true what I
see?
I feel like a
poppy-head,
empty and vulnerable
to fight against
this threat
I’ll not be able.
Like the lull before
the storm,
a volcano before an
eruption,
quivering hands my
head is warm,
look at me,
will I keep up then?
(In a deep
depression)
