Thursday, September 22, 2016

Poetry 45 - Chronobullshit

I am offended that everyday
runs together so inconsiderately ,
and laughs
at each pit-stop of nightly rest and death.

Everything fast-forwards in retrospect.

Time is the dog that shakes its cat friend
with every intention of good fun
until it dies.

It doesn't know what it's doing,
so I guess I can forgive it,
for the lives it destroys.

Chronophobia is an earned title.

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