Like an old bear

in my bed

lying flat on my face

unaware there is a special place

for lazies in hell

i wallow

in the disappointments

of my making

i whore myself

like a demon I presume

on food and films

and capricious whims

you worry

the love thins

while I grow fat

unnaturally yet

my mind is scattered

in far away realms

a book, a slate

a tired young mate

promises that tighten

a noose around my neck

I whimper, I die

I have a plan, I lie

I wait for the weather to frown

for winter to warm

that one spring morn

when I shall be well again

and old bears

shall be tame again

love will blossom

and lazies spared

it’s a pipe dream, I know

but once more,

I have dared.

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