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Thursday, December 6, 2012

Murky Melancholy

The blaring alarms awaken me
I fight a losing battle with time,
Crushing an inner urge to give in,
To the dejected thoughts within.

Fluid is the fickle weak mind,
Attempting to elude life’s grind.
Resisting harvesting my desolation,
Is my only ray of consolation.

3 comments:

  1. The alarm clock is such a bleak beacon on these winter mornings.

    Nicely expressed.

    Cheers!
    JzB

    ReplyDelete
  2. Popped in for a-z, but it looks like you're not blogging anymore?

    ReplyDelete

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