The Prince of Rankle

Rankled.
Can’t sugar-coat it,
just annoyed at everything,
mostly myself.

It’s chemistry.
I should be upbeat.
I should feel free:
the monkey is gone.

I allow the city
to choke my peace.
I have an idea and
pretend it is true.

It may or may not be true.
I’m not sure it matters.
I may not be who I want to be.
I may only be who I am.

rankled

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About Jim Stewart

Writer at Butt in Chair
This entry was posted in anger, Consciousness, Poem, Slice of Life and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to The Prince of Rankle

  1. Stew..rankled seems
    Different time standards
    For the same moments

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