eric sundin

My presence turned sallow
gotten gray & old
Insipid & shallow
shuffling like a troll

Seeking out quietude
and tranquility
scrounging each interlude
for sanguinity

Uneasily did plumb
the depth of my soul:
Found it still callow, numb
though perhaps bit droll?

In my youth I held higher hopes
than retire as one of Life’s dopes

edited 05/28/24 0650