Bending

Though, I say

I can't take anymore,

still, I find I'm bending

and bending some more.

So weary in body

and weary in mind

and now, my life

seems out of control.

Bending, tortures me so.

I almost look forward

to the snap and the break

and just letting go.

Is there no mend?

Is this the end?

Send the clowns in,

I don't want to pretend.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

The poem tell a truth.
"Is there no mend?
Is this the end?
Send the clowns in,
I don't want to pretend."
I know you have great pain. Pain is unbearable and you have my respect. Thank you dear Poet for sharing your outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[Barbara Walker]

thank you, dear friend.

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome my friend. I hope you are doing okay.