Adjusting to life's changes with hope… through poetry, haiku, and commentary

Savage Laughter


There are three flies
staring at me.

From the outside of
the window looking in,
they don’t move.

They laugh. They know.
They know they can
and I can’t.

Now there are four.
I laugh. The fourth
one laughs. They told
number four.

Said that I can’t.

My hysterical laughter
fills the small room.

Not true. A smile with
no teeth turned into
hysterical laughter in
my head.

My laugh gets louder in
retrospect.

It is my season of can’t.

Can’t go.
Can’t stay.
Can’t sleep.
Can’t stay awake.
Can’t go forward.
Can’t go back.
And many more.

This season of can’t is
setting fire to my hopes,
my dreams, my life, so it
seems.

Fueled by days of must,
that begin and end in
the dark. No life at
either end.

Must do this because
doesn’t stop. Can’t.
Can’t you see?

“Waiting is water
for the soul.”

That’s what I told the
four before I laughed
with savage laughter.

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