The once-broad spectrum of,

measurable moments in time,

warped and whittled down

by this groggy, sputtering mind,

the bound constraints are fading,

edges increasingly harder to define,

every nano-second feels wasted,

every molecule feels misaligned…


Meanwhile everyone else is heartless,

and they all seem to stand happily in line,

they like to say something – do nothing,

flock-life suits every last of them fine,

true – I must say, like I do every day,

career-sheep-existence takes a certain kind,

I can make this statement most certainly,

because believe me when I tell you I’ve tried…


Sometimes now, I can’t help but to question,

what I’ve got to show for my independent pride,

for all the times I’d managed to ditch the flock,

perhaps it was I who had always been left behind,

the present is oblivious to choices of the past,

the past looks to a future: no less painful, or unkind,

the future hears only the things it wants to hear,

and all of my measurable moments have slipped on by…

11 thoughts on “Measurable.

  1. idiot savants says:

    Reblogged this on idiotsavants.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I love that last line…all my measurable moments have slipped on by…so true. This resonates so much. Love this!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Teela Hart says:

    I’ve read this 4 times and I get goose bumps every time.
    You have a beautiful way with words. The kind of picture no lens could ever capture.

    Liked by 1 person

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