Holding On To Nothing.

Scribbled lines and swirls on a sheet of paper.
Got tired of the dearth of ideas in mind, so
I crumpled it up, aimed it at/into the bin standing across the room
Hoping it would fall right in. It did, I nearly exulted.

A day full of frolic and gaiety,
brought me into confronting a big trouble
Right when I was delving into slumber,
A sudden intrusion of thoughts stirring up a whirlwind of emotions.

Could I somehow know when to lose hope, and when to wake up
and and not go back to sleep again?
Could I find out, before I ventured into something that caught my eye,
Whether it would repay me with further delights?
For to what purpose then, should I give my all to something,
That was never to give me joy that made me smile like a cradled child.

Then I was smiling again, though there were no reasons left,
and then came another blow, reminding me that I had no reason to smile.
I was despondent, angry.
When comes news I awaited, and forgot I'd even cried that day.
Awoke the next day, prayed and left from home looking for familiar faces and places.

Maybe even that would help.