Weakness and Fragility

Weakness and fragility,
signs of my futility,
yet no signs of utility
are coming from me now.
Fatigued and tired,
found with much ire,
as if cross-wired
with no function any more.
Thoroughly confused,
in and out of news,
piled with the refuse
as I should be.
To the side discarded
with no need to be guarded
in a sea never parted
away from anguish,
on a drowning ship
going down so quick
as the slow drip
now rushes in falls.
Efforts last ditched
with ideas pitched
without anything enriched
with any meaning.
Emptiness abounding
with nothing surrounding
but a chest pounding
with a heart soon to quit.

The Process of the Throwing

Words discarded
into the trash
that were thought of long ago
when I was too brash -
The process of the throwing
away of these ideas served
painful at that very instant
until I realized the benefit of the swerve.
The pain and frustration
I thought I would encounter
is completely absent here
like a home's out-of-towner.
Now I only feel freedom
from what once hurt so badly.
I can only say I would repeat
the motion I now do so gladly.
No longer will these hiccups
of misguidings and indecisions
to do the right and honorable action
hinder me from viewing the vision.
Only will the act of preserving
the beautiful gift I've been granted
will be of my concerning
as my story becomes the enchanting.