by

Numbered.

Like the razor-edged bite of barbed wire,

a brander freshly pulled from a bright bonfire,

a kind of rhythm that does little to inspire,

this heart’s beat to slow it’s lethal rapid-fire;

Like a carrot stick that snaps in half,

an old and dog-eared photograph,

a forgotten joke and forgotten laugh,

a wall built up with a million death masks;

Like an eternity and how it cruelly passes,

killing me slowly as it rolls like molasses,

the bee that stings in the sweetest of grasses,

the ancient tire swing in the pine tree branches;

Like the moment Father Time finally catches up,

when you finally see the empty bottom of your cup,

when everything you’ll ever be is just beyond your touch,

no need to take a number when it’s yours that has come up.

 

8 thoughts on “Numbered.”

  1. whimsical90 says:
    November 19, 2015 at 10:23 AM

    beautiful analogies..

  2. sfarnell says:
    November 19, 2015 at 10:30 AM

    Hey there, hows things? Been thinking i need to cstch up with you properly sometime ☺

  3. JMC813 says:
    November 20, 2015 at 6:14 PM

    Love this J. Stellar in it’s rhyme and flow. Taken aback by it’s absolute truth. Be well friend.
    XO