May not be good, may not be bad
Only measuring my temper
Noon will be my mate or my enemy
Day holds the clock at noon
and the 'tik tok' is talkative
Yes! My brain is fully-automated dead
Written on September 5, 2022
Hillary Monica Maranresy
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Author:
Hillary Monica Maranresy (
Offline) - Published: July 20th, 2026 09:56
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
Offline)
Comments2
This poem is like a pause in time. Nicely written it speaks to the unknowable future
Monday's should come with a health warning, maybe Tuesday too, Wednesday is inbetween life and death, Thursday is just bearable.
Friday, is release day, the sun is shining, people look sane, and the bar has a drink with my name etched on it.
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