Monday Night Poetry

On Friday, July 2, I will be closing the voting for which paragraph(s) to expand.  If you wish to have input, feel free to make a most.  You can cast your vote in any post I have made, since I read them all.




The Breakdown of Soul
The breakdown of the soul
Is both fast and slow.
It can come in little bits,
Like shark flakes of obsidian,
Slicing away.
But it sometimes come in heaps,
A landslide of negativity.
Sometimes we lost bits of it
Every day.
A piece here.
A bit there.
Until there is nothing left
But a
Shell


She looked at the man across from her.  "Every time you have some little trouble, some meaningless triviality, you come to me.  You expect constant sympathy, little things to make you feel better.  You want me to be a fount of strong, expressive, pithy little bits of wisdom.  Well, I hate to break it to you, but I have my own problems to deal with.  And right now, they are far more pressing than anything you whine about.  Basically, what I'm trying to tell you is this: You'll have to come back some other time if you want me to say something poignant."