Hello Nook. I'm sorry I basically forgot about you, but I've finally returned.  Here's a poem I wrote the other day.  It really sucks when you want a job but can't get one.  Sometimes you just have to cheer yourself up with a poem.




Higher Ground

Stuck in a rut,

nothing, but

I feel it in my gut.

Something will change,

 unlock, rearrange

until it seems less strange.

An open door,

beyond, more

than cold, stone floor.

Free and found,

the way, around

the mind to higher ground.