Clock always ticking but I can’t catch the rhythm in its tempos, I’m always just a little off. Hours keep hostages; Small cells into which are squeezed essential bits of life. But I don’t like the constraints; [To be] ensnared in eternal judgment by encroachments of minute captivity where there are always seconds… Perpetual measures, …
Easy for you to rip my heart in shreds, easy for your selfish whims to overshadow your care for me. Once, I was special to you. Now, I’m only useful; A tool that’s needed only occasionally – compared to a time when I was precious and wanted, The sparkle’s worn off… I still don’t know …
True wealth is the wealth of the soul
Poetry, story and real life. Once soldier, busnessman, grandfather and Poet.
A collective of thoughts, poetry, writing works, blurbs, and other randomosity
BUZZWEED QUIZZES
Art Studio Dumfriesshire
Kayfucius 