Down the many stitches I've woven down,
In a scarf so tightly knit together,
To stop and just check the time I frown.
The clock's arms sped down fast to its nether,
Before I knew it the world moved too fast,
Joyous occasions ended quickly too.
Until the day I saw their faces last,
My last task,my dying breath, meant adieu.
What a short life I've lived, how fast it went,
As fast as I came, as fast as death take.
Everything blurs together down the vent,
To crumble down to memories that flake.
YOU ARE READING
The book of a pessimistic poet
PoetryAll smiles be gone All that's once gay Will droop when done none shout hooray Proceed safely Or exit now Not daintily Wreckage will plow To those childish Or still stable This is no dish All's unstable
