WINTER POLLEN

This place is beginning to sap my soul
Literature and music can’t find a home

I don’t think I’ve been this far down
My life is beginning and I’m starting to drown.

I haven’t had a shower now in 5 months
The house is un-adopted and I live like a mouse

I’m starting to burrow into my own black hole
Creating a void as cold and lonely as the pole

There’s a riot going on again at the end of my road
They’re burning buses again or so I’ve been told

Poetry is the only thing that keeps me alive
And ill create nectar from this negative hive.