John Tottenham

You lose your face, your health, your mind,
and what do you find?
Wisdom…
that it is too late to use.

You don’t have time anymore,
time has you. It speeds up
as you slow down,
and all the wasted years come rushing back
as you run out of fuel on a one way track.

The last ride is an express train,
not bound for glory,
no more stations,
end of story.

Posted on August 20, 2019 at 11:42 pm in Emptyscapes, Magnanimous Misanthropy, Pointless Revelations   |  RSS feed |   Reply   |   Trackback URL