I stand abjectly in the shower
as minutes drag on into hours.
I wonder if there is a soap
that cleans despair—with scent of hope;
or facial scrub that clears out ears
as well as melancholic years;
or a shampoo that smells of life
and washes out all stress and strife—
conditioner that smoothes the hair
and takes away my abject air—
but no, my wretchedness remains,
and only water finds the drain.
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