these are the doubtful days
the self-critical days
the days where all is looked at
through magnifying lenses
and found wanting
where every word and action
is analysed and over-analysed
and I’m so busy analysing
that more words and actions
slip out of me unbidden
snippy, snappy, grumpy-face
and the loop repeats

and still you say you love me


wings clipped
by aches and pains
weighed down
by crazy hormones
so tired, so weary
I cannot fly
I cannot soar
I cannot feel the joy
of every bit of life
so I just sit
and lie down
and sigh
and try not to sink