Waste of Time

The days are knee-sliding
Into month-after-month
Of sickly, sad sorrow
And thick loss of hope

There’s bumps on my head
Cancerous lumps in my throat
Worn out old ropes tie
Tight knots in my chest
Threatening to hang me
Before I fall to my death

Thoughts that won’t silence
Never allow for good rest
No wonder I’ll forever come
In at second to best

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3 thoughts on “Waste of Time

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