Corner: Coming Around Again

Deep dejection set in,
After a fitful sleep
Full of troublesome dreams
And unpleasant sensations;

Fears, rages and shingles came a stalking,
Shaking me awake with their needles,
And itching and prickling assaulted
My senses, stirring my ill will;

As the humidity lifted,
Fatigue settled in
From the disturbing night,
Challenging my resolve;

The day seemed
Like an eternity
Through which I crawled
From one hell realm to another;

Only when, I dragged myself
Into the kitchen finally
To prepare supper,
Did the rally begin,

Slowly, only slowly;
Later exercising and thinking,
‘It doesn’t matter
How many times I start over,

There are no rules on that
Except the ones I draft,
No law that places a limit
On how many starts or stops I have,

It therefore doesn’t matter
How many times I falter,
Or how many times
I rise again.’