A Poet Never Sleeps

One day you will be faced with the impossible. When you become afraid, become inspired.

10 March 2014

In Chains From Birth to Death

We are prisoners of time

Made of ticks and tocks

Bound under a crystalline face


Each morning we beg our master to wake us

Angry still when he does

Yet each day we fall on our knees


We subject ourselves to his whim

In exchange for a few minutes of sunshine

We deprive ourselves


This master is not of nature

For birds don’t heed his presence

Yet still we flock to him


Although we lament our misfortune

We’d be lost in our forward motion


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