An Answer, Please!

I lay down on my bed, facing the ceiling.
My thoughts are dealing
with problems, floating free,
but still part of me.

What's to do!

Must think things through
and make some decisions,
as there are collisions
within my brain.
It's so inane!

An answer, please,
something to ease
the hurting in my head.

So here on my bed,
I face the ceiling
with such a reeling, feeling.

But what is that?
Oh, drat!
The paper on my ceiling
is PEELING!

poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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