At the very bottom of my stomach was a pit,
but it was good for nothing,
like most of the rest of me,
I do not know why they said it would remind me how to be a dogooder,
if I was a dogooder at heart,
I suppose I would not need to be reminded,
But this pit was becoming more of a problem than a solution,
it was misguided,
parked at the lowermost of the less of me,
useless as the compass I needed it to be,
I started questioning things,
most things,
and it was then that my innards started failing me even more,
It got good and hard to keep me on the straightened arrow,
because I was crooked,
always had been,
always would be,
They hollowed me out long ago,
long, long ago,
before I could do anything except shift the blame,
None of this would have happened if you hadn't tunneled into the base of my contrition,
in---
Darkness overcomes you yet again. Lift up I say! No, in all seriousness, I do enjoy the idea of writing about the pit in one's stomach. Many a metaphor can be created from such subject matter. These were my favorite lines:
ReplyDeleteBut this pit was becoming more of a problem than a solution,
it was misguided,
parked at the lowermost of the less of me,
There is something about this that makes it feel as you've personified the pit, as if it has a mind of its own and is in control of you. I like this concept a lot. I also think that there is a way to use this as a metaphor for good. Perhaps the pit becomes a seed from which good deeds and happiness can blossom and even thrive?
It maybe time to straighten up!!!!!!
ReplyDelete