Thursday\'s body clock
of forgotten Wednesday
slows the fog of approaching Friday.
Ever closer, crawling, relentless,
spurring all dull days to rhyme.
Here, in a diary of the ignored.
Events parade across a page
of locked down law\'s enforcement,
days drawn blank, no entry
with even less achieved.
. Planned meals fall ridiculed to breakfast
. whilst outside, announced by binman\'s clatter,
. seven more days have passed away - all gone,
. time wasted, as if, time no longer matters.
And this next week, whatever that is,
heralds a birthday without cheerful celebration.
No joyful carefree, tiny hand in hand,
with grandchild, window shopping.
No puff of breath ....No candle blown hurrah!
All arise then sparkling at ring tone\'s trill
as smile widens to .......evaporation...
another sales pitch, cold call,
and sudden drooping shoulders
of disappointment.
. A fine age to age for aged minds
. to thrive in lonely, darkening shadow?