barricade's blog: "Poetry"

Tick tick tick tick...

and this runs into that day runs into...

what's an hour to a minute?

Yet, here we are, staring, and

wasting, wasting away.

I'm sick with it.

I'll run with it.

Give me time that I don't have

I'll give you change from my pocket

for that void in your head.

Sick, sick, sick, sick....