NO challenge, no hurdles, no accomplishment, and
now it doesn’t matter because the rain is washing
away all sorrows, the threatening drought is more
important than my ear-ache and depression facing
bleak words that carry me right back to the age of
9 when lessons on the merino sheep drove me to
despair, the same despair rears its head as this
existential phytosanitary text runs on roasting my
mind and shriveling my spirit, mute I’m laying my
head under a guillotine of grey auditors reinforcing
the work of the Dementors trying to suck all joy out
of my soul; determined to follow my via Dolorosa
to the end and continue my Pilgrim’s Progress I
feel my heart shrinking and my emotions dying,
step-by-step I descend into Hades, yet right now
it’s raining and everything else disappears in the
the joy of sheer survival and life-giving green
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