Time
October 30, 2017
As I look outside my dreary window
Witnessing my life slipping away now
Time, the evil bastard, does not slow
I can’t save myself, I do not know how
From bugs, to leaves on their little branchings
Are they aware of Time’s pressure too?
Do they also ponder their true meanings?
Time is subject that many misconstrue
The sunlight through my drapes, is it a waste?
They travel eight minutes to reach no one
To reach nothing but me, the self-disgraced
“Everything has a purpose my dear son”
Well that's pretty convenient isn’t that
Enough time I have wasted here I sat
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