Words I Like To Throw Around These Days

 

Tired
Of being tired
Sitting long hours in
My own cage staring at a blank screen
Doing nothing for hours on end
Waiting for the siren so I can go home

Time
That I waste
Sitting long hours in
My own cage staring at a blank screen
Doing nothing for hours on end
Waiting for the siren so I can go home

Pressure
That I feel
Sitting long hours in
My own cage staring at a blank screen
Doing nothing for hours on end
Waiting for the siren so I can go home

Inspiration
The life
That is sucked out of me
Because I am
Sitting long hours in
My own cage staring at a blank screen
Doing nothing for hours on end
Waiting for the siren so I can go home

Excuses
That I make
Because I am
Sitting long hours in
My own cage staring at a blank screen
Doing nothing for hours on end
Waiting for the siren so I can go home

Resilience
Because I endure
Sitting long hours in
My own cage staring at a blank screen
Doing nothing for hours on end
Waiting for the siren so I can go home

Hope
That one day I will get out of
Sitting long hours in
My own cage staring at a blank screen
Doing nothing for hours on end
Waiting for the siren so I can go home

© Sena Frost ’17

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Years

365 and a quarter days spent racing round a gigantic fireball

Revolutions made regularly

Spinning in perpetuity

I would say it runs in circles

Nay

Elliptical tracks are more our style

A top tilting its way round a familiar course

The yardstick called a year

In years

I am born

You grow

We live

They die

Sometimes we leap

A whole day awarded for you

We waste it

Nonetheless this course holds steady

A little blip in the Milky Way

Twinkling merrily in some alien sky

Years

Bring us together

Tear us apart

That even family becomes strangers

As bonds are loosened by the constant spinning

Yesterday’s trusting child becomes a suspecting adult

Years

Tilt me out of the circumference of your life

That a touch made today is a footprint at the beach;

Washed away

Years we’d rather forget

Filled with places we would rather not be and people we no longer are

Death and darkness in them

Years we remember

Filled with life

Sun and growth and all things nice

Where I remain inceptive

Immortal years stop not once for you

Years take the life

You painstakingly crafted something for yourself

A sudden leap sends you out of the cradle

And pop goes the weasel

We convolute

Wax and wane

Bloom then wither

As our own sense of time culls us

All in

365 and a quarter days spent racing round a gigantic fireball

Revolutions made regularly

Spinning in perpetuity

I would say it runs in circles

Nay

Elliptical tracks are more our style

An eternal present

For what exactly?

Who knows,

Go with the flow

Image courtesy google images

© Sena Frost ’17