Thoughtstream

Time flying by
with never a thought
to whether we can keep up,
or stumble and fall
and never in a million years
would it come to check our wounds…

……and so,
clock’s arms rolls around,
cobwebs go on growing and greying
and I sit here praying
and all the world can do is go on buying
selling, under the table, trading the
good the bad and the ugly.

I can’t look, for I owe YOU and more
a few words, a smile, a breath …..
How could I not?
How could I be drawn into mediocrity
which draws our blood from veins which
already weep from the mundane?
No…. I make space here ~ now ~ Life Sings.
Friends meet via telestial means as if it’s all
that can be given. Human beings morph
into automatons and we wonder why
the world is about to go PUFF…….