Numbered Days

My breaths are labored

Punctuated by a cough.

I’d started tending to the neighbors

Everyone in Indiana just scoffs

Meditation is the practice of death

Funny thing I’d count my breath.

I was dishonest to the one I loved

In the name of greater from above.

Now, bereft of both,

My foolishness comes full circle.

Teacher said this work leaves you hated and alone

How many lifetimes must I atone?

Teacher said meaning can come from having kids

How funny now, feels like having adult SIDS.

Teacher said to take it serious

I was a touch too social once, how delirious.

Although afraid, I only fear not completing the work,

Truly being with the Beloved.

If anyone deserves to die, it’s me.

I’m a dang ol’ dummy.

Published by mikelenczycki

Not Anybody.

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