(25th March 1943 / )

An Answer, Please!

I lay down on my bed, facing the ceiling.
My thoughts are dealing
with problems, floating free,
but still part of me.

What's to do!

Must think things through
and make some decisions,
as there are collisions
within my brain.
It's so inane!

An answer, please,
something to ease
the hurting in my head.

So here on my bed,
I face the ceiling
with such a reeling, feeling.

But what is that?
Oh, drat!
The paper on my ceiling
is PEELING!

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 5 votes ) 13

Comments (13)

A lovely twist at the end. Mine is tiled so I don't suffer with a peeling ceiling! Great poem. Andrew x
Humor in facing difficult times...how essential....just like friendship, Your friend, Uriah
I enjoyed this one, Ernestine. Clever twist at the end. Reminds me of my first Yoga teacher's description of her husband's only experience of one of her classes. Apparently throughout the relaxation, his eyes were open as he anxiously searched the ceiling for blemishes. (He had painted it the week before) love, Allie xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Liked the opening rumination and how you misled the reader then brought us back to the mundane! Clever stuff! Justine
Who papers a ceiling? There's another question for you...Fun switch-up! -chuck
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