PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Wasted minutes, wasted space

I can never find the right moments

to tell you what you mean to me

I stumble on my own defeats,

reach back again and again

for lives I thought were tragedies

Cruel time, cruel laws

gravity nailing me to the earth

even when I don’t want to be here

I’m rich if rich means

trading pieces of time in for people

but I still can’t speak around you

Spending letters and energy

Cruel wasted minutes swirl down the drain…

at least I’m not going with them.