There was something I was going to say,
But now I don’t know what.
I was going to say something meaningless,
But I think about it a lot.
It could be something to laugh about,
Or something just to see.
But I don’t think it cared for me,
So I think we’ll just let it be.
Why does it worry me so.
If it’s something I can’t stand to feel?
I guess we’ll never understand
Why I’ve suddenly lost my will.
Someone save me from
the under written message leading me on.
I can’t think about this misery discomforting me.
It’s just so wrong.

3-1-1992 Sunday
Written by Gail Brookshire