WHY

September 2004 One year after losing Mom

Why do I pound the floor

and scream my agony?

giving the carpet What For

and tears to sip for tea.

Who am I yelling at?

Who do I blame

for this feeling?

Do I pound the floor flat

because I can't reach

the ceiling?

Honesty's a bitch

when the truth

looks scary,

Enough to make you twitch

'cause this could get hairy.

But here it goes

the old One Two,

"God your plan blows!"

Now this poem

rings true.