Good Afternoon,
    I thought I'd post something along the line of yesterdays poem. I consider this to be from my darker, more reflective collection. Not quite the pull out the tissue and shotgun category (that side of me is usually hibernating in the summer), but more of the 'Why is life so tricky?' perspective on things. Here's a little Cinquain to think about. Just because the teacher in me can't help it, a Cinquain is a 5 line, 22 syllable poem. The syllables are divided amongst the lines in a specific pattern (2, 4, 6, 8, 2). Like Haikus, I find this format is excellent for condensing a plethora of thought.

I Don't Get It

Loving
is exhausting
when you don't feel loved back
It makes one question the point of
it all

Sally