An Average Day

This bitter feeling
wound tight
coiled
sits and waits
waits until you forget
and go back to the momontemy
to more pressing matters of deadlines and dates
unknown to you
that it still sits there
and waits
the long flowing lines that your pen lays down
with ticking clocks
and higher frowns
it waits for you
to finish the shopping, and make your dinner
despite your humming.
Until you take your leave, for a warm bed
it creeps up and out of your head
rearing in the darkness like nightmarish foes
reminding you not to begett your woes.
after burdened tears you finally slip
into a peaceful rest
despite the trip.

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