I toss and turn
But, all I smell is a burn
Is it the wind?
April has been the cruelest month
It hasn’t been too kind
But I still wonder
Will it ever leave me?
It drowns me
Sucks me up like a quagmire
My Mother says it is too much heat
Friends say it is too much thinking
He says it is all in your head
I say it is the chill
Too much crowding
Yet the silence
Too many people
Yet the loneliness
Too much wind
Yet the parchness
But I still wonder
Will it ever be?
