trickling along

aches and pains are all i feel
get a massage, what's the big deal?
my bones, indeed they creak and groan
what a worry, i'm no old crone =(

there's something else bothering me
it seems be a thing i can't see
stressing less with what lies ahead
hasn't done much to lift that dread.

oodles of thoughts and feelings
trapped under my big glass ceiling.
my mind and heart, i cannot peg
which came first, chicken or the egg?

an answer i've yet to find,
it's hard to think with a sick mind
not the perverted kind, mind you
an ailing one, one that can't spew.

plans to make and things to do,
facebook brought a surprise or two
yet i seem unable to budge
no flecks of joy from choc'late fudge

the road ahead, i can't see
it all remains fuzzy to me
plain winter blues, or something more?
summer will tell us, that's for sure.

'til this season's come and gone
the curtains will remain all drawn
i'll trickle along, seeking zen
until they open once again.

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