Your post made me think a bit more after I initially responded and i feel the need to express thusly, ______________________________________
UNTITLED Time revolves around my head Endlessly careening Seemingly without control Or direction. Time stamped embarrassment Strikes when the big hand disapproves. Today I don't even control the minutes They stand Still Waiting for me to decide On anything. And I don't As calling card memories Leaving Morgul wounds Unhealing scars Kept open by a willingness inside Me to kite these demons To allow chase The hope of being great Great enough to never have to admit the truth About myself And my calling cards. Rest. ___________________________________________________
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