A poem, just off the top of my head one day. Perhaps it outlines my inner frustrations or a generalization on all human history… I’ll leave the analysis to someone else.
I’ve come to the end
of a journey begun
so long ago, before I could run
when all that ever I could see
was the trampling feet in front of me
stepped on by the decievers
trampled by the frantic believers
following, following this race of mine
into the caves and tunnels of time
rythmically chaotic
steadily neurotic
I walked, then ran faster
dodging doomed disaster
I stumbled, I fell
until I saw all too well
the race that was mine…
had run well out of time.
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