Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Busy

Slipping
Stumbling
Fumbling
Minutes rush
and hours sweep by
as guilt-ridden thoughts rise up
accusatory

Should
Could
Would
Not enough
and somehow more
must be done in quick sand
impossible

Give
Give
Give
The leech's
two daughters cry
incessant as the sun beating down
relentless

Stop

Did you think I wouldn't catch on
that lie masked by noise
so familiar
Hiding
Lurking
Sneaking

Done

I see you trying to blend in
but the surroundings
have changed
Shame
you're
done

Go.

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