i have too many thoughts in a day,
too many wants in a year
i drive myself mad with
contrived dark alleys and silhouettes
waiting in the shadows for another punch drunk love
climbing out of my wreckage just to make some more
hating it all but enchanted by it still
too reluctant to admit it
a stone cold bitch hiding a melted heart
but the Music,
oh the Literature,
holds me together and tears me apart
yet keeps me running like a broke down engine
with a false start and rusty wheels
creaking along old faded Time
yelling in the streets as i wander on
itching for the next explosion
an interest
a passion
ambition
relentless and unguarded as a war
an untainted and curious infant
who has not had the imagination
the creativity
the life
beaten out of them yet
by that relentless bitch Time
which, though invented by us all,
still commands every dripping second of the
dying clock
murdering us back
throwing caution
and laughter
to the wind
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