At This Day's End

Sit down, I'll share a thought with you

And you must promise not to tell

That all I say and all I do

Are nothing to me but a shell

And everything I say aloud

Is something I'm ashamed to think

And everything I do: a shroud

For something in my mind that shrinks

I know of nothing I have learned

And I've learned none of what I know

And I'm not sure if I'm concerned

Or if its simple quid pro quo

And everything you say is wrong

When everything you hear is right

'Cause nothing really just belongs

When living means to give a fight

So here I am, at this day's end

With nothing different from before

But now I'm willing to pretend

There's nothing locked behind my door

Author's Note

Seriously considering editing the third stanza.

I would appreciate anything you have to say about the poem.