Pity Party: Compilation 07/18/2022

Is it so archaic that I’m the one to blame?
Parking
in the basement, basically in shame
Of my bargain lunch box that holds a shriveled bun
And in that bun a hot dog, a holiday undone
Its like a queen’s old bishop in a game of chess
You may call this fiction, a myth no more or less
But here I am a witness to unlikely coping skills
A candidate not winning, a shelf with no more pills.
It curbs my enthusiasm and makes my poor head ache
To live my life on this scale, I wish I had a break.
So now I sit and eat here, wanting no one else to see
That all this really is now is a pity show for me. 

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

6 thoughts on “Pity Party: Compilation 07/18/2022

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