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Ten Minutes Till Death
Every conspiritory word passed under hushed whispers
Like rats trapped in the woodworks
Spewing lies to prolong your existence
For a minute or two
There's no fight or flight
For the cornered mice
Waiting for their life to become national news
But only for a day or two
Here's your fifteen minutes of fame
Half past eleven a.m.
No one gives a shit after you hang
All your ideals disappear from view
In a day or two
"...in a day or two..."
This poem rocks! The "national news" passage was phenomenal. I have not thought about rats for decades. My life is squirrels, big rats with fluff on their tails. :D - yr poempal - Stella
Thanks! I am glad you enjoyed
Thanks! I am glad you enjoyed it :D