...of If I Were Being Compensated for Thinking;

I thought I’d arrived,
no more cries.

I thought I meant more,
not so much a chore.

I thought I understood,
instead I learned I’m no good;

No good at following the clues,
so that I don’t look like a fool.

Nothing good can come of this,
the feeling of what I want to do with my fists.

Nor can it take/
away my heartache.


Simply,