by Francesca Thrash
1-27-01
My own deceptions mock my face,
And with their finger the tear trails trace,
This tangled web is mine.
My reason's not returned to me,
Do I crave this bed of lunacy,
I fashion with my lies?
The war between my mind and heart,
I lose both from the very start,
My life; futility.
Home again,
Jiggity jig!