submission grows slowly
without time to think
numbed with the circus
our gossip
and drink
rancid workthink
bleeds into leisure time
these precious hours
somehow no longer mine
and thus
the chase for daily bread
cascades the worry
in a dreamer’s head
but lo and behold
with such lust to lash out
and take hold of that lightening
to bring real life about
No comments:
Post a Comment