My Nights

My nights have been long and dreary. My poems bleed on my sheets endlessly. The words run wild from the rhyme freely. And, the rhythm beats an unmeasured time. My hope has been smothered by grief. My day begins with an overpowering feeling, That it's time that I pray for release, And try to live a life more sublime. My days have turned cloudy and bleak. My love for the world is a question to me. I see clearly now, I'm my worst enemy. And the changes I need are all mine. My choices determine, to a degree, My heart's aspirations as I seek That my soul be painless and free. And with that, my life will be fine.