Poetry

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The alignment of Mechanical Boredom

written by: ScottRaven

I avoid looking at time
like it was a virtue
and i a saint
on the path to righteousness
with a vow to avoid its sight,
Maybe its Medusa
and each hand a snake
but what does it matter
I am already set in stone.

Too late foe a mirror
to see myself grow
i sit gathering dust
watching my thoughts
sail on past
by the tick of the clock,
Maybe like Argos
neglected to wait
and hold on to hope
the only thing left.

Once i giggled
predicament frowned
suffocated in zest
silenced before friends
those anglers
scoop trust in their net,
Jesus caught fish
in the lakes of his day
but i am on the ocean
with not a catch in sight.

Comments:

Sun, Jul 13, 2008 at 12:58PM

Hey Scott, it's been a long time. Good to see you writing some poetry. I like it!! Great images! It's a dark poem, but there's some light in there. Please post more!

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