I can't.
Although I try, I can't.
Moving on is easy, but I can't.
I can't.
Nothing to see here,
a lonely soul full of fear.
Living this life in a mystery,
limited in all by an apostrophe.
I can't.
Is I can, apostrophe tee.
Is it really that simple?
I can't tell.
Moving on to fight the good fight,
insanity plagues those who are bright.
Living a life which is becoming a tragedy,
and cursing the existence of the apostrophe.
I can't.
It is so easy to add that mark,
and give up on all without straining myself.
I can't deny.
So in the morning before I wake,
I feel I've already had more than I can take.
In this world, there is no bigger blasphemy,
than any word that includes an apostrophe.
I can't is
I won't which is
born from wouldn't and
it all leads back to doubt.
Worthiness.
Being slothful or cowardly is the catastrophe,
that is nurtured in birth by the apostrophe.
© 2008 J. James Reider
