ATM — The Ache of a Day Lacking in the Word

Ah to me a drink so cool and refreshing greets
A weary wand’ring soul with burdens cumbering
All fractured by the similitude of shackles on his feet
After breaking step of march to cast his stride by lumbering

The sigh that lifts his chest to float downstream
Through shifting currents of his patterned thought
Trace several eddies fraught with what may seem
Tantalizing directions to follow but all for naught.

My Carowinding roller coaster plunges
(Through which state: North or South? I often wonder)
And shakes my spirit with what my past expunges
Made perplexing by the present clove asunder.

At the moment I am lost in life’s hard way.
At the moment all this ache has had its say.