What you ask for, will I find it?©09/17/2013 Carol Welch
If there"s some hope, I don't mind it;
by the morass, I am blinded,
in your storage nook.
In the spooky, dark recesses,
where concealed and tangled mess is,
what is in there, who can guess? Is
the item for which I look?
You have done it; you have lost it,
disappearance, oblivion cost it.
Could you have thought before you tossed it
in a pile of junk?
I have lost the motivation,
to join you in cooperation;
this convolution spawns frustration.
If I don't leave this operation,
I'll end up in a funk.