Mere stepping stones I tread
as I jump through the hoops
formed by the hangman’s noose
on a path to somewhere I can’t see
Forward I go again, into another day
a gut wretch precedes my cat stretch
and I climb a broken ladder, mustn’t dismiss
it has to get better than this
But how many hours can I spend
in search of a four leaf clover
when all around me eager trios
lean in for my attention?
Shared for Open Link Night over at dVerse Poets.