I have no idea what I am about to write
Is this a story or a poem?
Or is this the story of a poem?
I could write about an emotion
Rant and rave until I’m blue in the face
Experiences and memories and philosophies
But what point am I trying to get across in the end?
In one moment I am completely content
And in the back of my mind I feel that sense of unease
The natural ebbs and flows of life
I feel the ebb is coming
The most I can do is live
Breathe in and out
Oxygen to Carbon dioxide and out
Feel my own brain deteriorate naturally
Feel myself grasping at straws as I race the clock
Yet where is the race?
The clock moves methodically
Equal increments of time between each little line
It wins and it loses
So where is the race?
And one day the gears will stop
And I feel myself getting inspiration
I think I’ll go start another story now.
