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i am the dissident poetician...i tear down fences with sardonic sardines and metaphysical cucumbers

Saturday, August 09, 2014


retroactive realisation

all the moments lost in the sands of time
time waits for no one
a wasted youth
waiting for things to happen
something, anything
it's happenstance
all those glimpses of darkness
do you remember when we were young and free?
do you pine away for those days to return?
but age is just a number
a number that creeps up on us
the hallowing seeds of deception
looking for needles in the glove box
the onset of boredom
enough to maim and kill
there was once much hopelessness
but those days are dead and buried
meandering monologue
your impersonations do not impress me
but it's entirely your own choice
to toke from the bong
as the days slip away
please do not call me when I'm in class
and no, it's not dardy
not even close
you condone racism
not realizing how stupid you sound
the static nonsense of your television
but you have given up
too far gone
but this is not about you
it's about everything and nothing
and endings are never complete
just as beginnings are never new
time to turn up the ante
change is just around the corner
do you believe what you believe
I'm starting to believe that you believe in nothing
please do not call me
unless you've got something to say
beyond what you always say
and no, it's not dardy

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