oh, tell me, time:
how do I store you up?
where do I keep you still,
who, always rolling,
mocks these mercantile schemes?
am I my druthers keeper?
sticking only wishes,
locked inside of self-deluding dreams,
these walls of my pretense,
unstored with all that nourishes,
a monument to all that
never was
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Tagged: Tags Poetry
Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
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