One-Hour-Late
The awkward feeling of being late. Anxiously waiting, anticipating, and expecting... Lost in this moment; temporarily out of service. The bus stops here and we still missed it. A bad start to any day. Patience allows this to pass, but this moment lasts. Endless effects from domino blocks that you and you alone mastered its creation. Wasting a beautiful mind with useless propaganda. Moments of weakness are followed by the stalker named Genius. This guy is completely untimely. He can be counted on; only to show up at the wrong time. One hour late.
Early 2015
Creator of The Stalker Named Genius.
Which will follow this post.
Copyright © Ironic Zink | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment