Second Guessed Stop: Haiku Lament

When you start to get /

second guessed about all you/

do, you stop doing.

Avoiding Your Pain Shame

You’re gone. I’m left here,
ashamed, knowing in your pain,
I avoided you.

If face masks can’t stop
the stench of six smokes, how can
they stop viruses?

You know what to do?
Then run the plot line and just
leave out the fight scenes.

She begs: “Take me to
It’ly!” I do. She then sits,
alone, with her phone.

My self-pity haiku a week before Christmas:

When you tried hard to/

avoid “Cat’s in the Cradle”/

yet they’re distant? Weep.

When you miss the point
and argue minutiae, I’ll
avoid discussions.

A bough seems broken.
Does a weeping oak exist?
Because I now am.

Maybe I was the

small fish in a big pond, but

now I’m just flopping.

Why should I, having
been made partaker of the

Holy Gift, sorrow?