Poetry

I really love this poem and I thought to share.

In my despair room,
I draw a hot sorrow bath,
A misery candle burning bright.

I wash my hair with regret shampoo,
Scrubbing clean with pain soap,
Drying off with my cherished white towel.

I smooth on “I don’t deserve” lotion,
Apply “I hate myself” face cream,
And slip into alone again silk pajamas.

As night deepens and sorrow hues blue,
When grinning and bearing seem too much,
Remember this word picture:
It can always be worse.

Author: Keanu Reeves