I’ve reached that point Monotony, routine, boredom Morning after morning, afternoon – repeat Evening, more of the same Days blur, didn’t I just do that
Category: Poetry & Prose
Plenty of Time – No Time part 2
I’ll put it away now, for later, maybe Crudely wrapped in blue smoke and Pounding fists, squinting eyes, ripped pages Thankful for the occasional flicker
Hide & Seek
I can’t remember How many days it’s been Lost in these hours Through deep exhale The crisp autumn air Burns cold With each inhale There’s
Would I
If I was given the gift, or curse Of knowing this would be Our last night together That there would be no morning No continuation
Take It All In
We don’t have boulevards to forget Our dreams lie broken on dirty streets Nicotine stained fingers prod for meaning Calloused hands wring out the last
