Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart
Friday, February 12, 2016
Annoying
Time is not a slow decay
the days all rush away--and worse
I can't recall the days at all.
Fun days, hard days, sad days---
all fall with equal speed
into the past.
Almost nothing lasts--it's always
now,
the present always cloying.
It's so annoying.
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