Is it ever enough?
A staggering inquiry
That loops the confines
Of my cracked and battered skull

A thought that feeds
My jagged meanderings
Stripped of all goals
Abandoned by upright purpose

Cold and intelligible
They plummet like orange bushels
Caught up in autumn’s primal reign
Frigid and crisps
Dead, dormant and morose

Night by night
I turn away from my wasted efforts
Haunted by the eerie and callous refrain
Will it ever be enough?
To which I stir
Burdened with remorse and searing regret