Why Must Time Torture Me So?

Why must Time torture me so?
What have I done to fall this low?
Seconds crawl or stop altogether.
A thin patience dead ends on its tether.
But no tears will fall to ease the hurt.
Pleas for help earn answers hard and curt.
A path poorly chosen barren of flower.
Rutted sad looks seeing without power.
To find a way home or out of the rain;
No, it’s back to the gutter, again and again.

Do we have a chance to leave smaller scars?
The moment leans on the tables in uptown bars.
Soon another hot soap mopping will seem to repair
The space between I love you and I don’t care.
Ah, young fool—the grays hairs betray your flinty part.
Is anyone ever good enough to fill with your empty heart?
The clock still teases with malice aforethoughtlessly
Amply conspiring with fear and guilt and hurt—effortlessly.
Rage at the losses, drop tears for new love yet to ponder.
Why must Time torture me so, ever will I forever wonder.

About Kitt

Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.

Posted on November 9, 2014, in Poem. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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