Days into Nothing
As I was gliding airingly down the street,
In the bright blue dread of the heat
I caught a glimpse of something old, wistful
In a puddle by the roadside
Its appearance was so mournful
My attention, out of breath
For it soon sank into view
That this despondent-looking fellow
Is none other than ME
As wonder crept in, night became darkness
My sense of direction blurred
I plodded along, helplessly at the bereft sight of things
Wonder came into focus, nature overtook nurture and time swept me along past my golden days
The walk was arduous
Efficient only in its meaningless purpose
As dead as I was inside
I still lived
Mistress time had stripped me of my benevolent beauty and left me tattered in my tender years
Poverty and Time are old rivals
Like the moon and the sun, competing for our affections
Unsatisfied with the days
What was a routine stroll along turned into a roll of the dice.
Never did I imagine this.
Such inescapable detail.
My thoughts emptied into darkness
And my experience of life, tainted.
The feel of my skin like sandpaper,
My movements became sluggish at best
As I counted down my years into days
Days of labour
Days of regret
Days into hours into nothing
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