Like a pin cushion I wait for the next edge to serrate,
it's been months since I've felt such hate
The metal will not yield
It refuses to bend and spill; lashing obscenely, obstinately adamant
The screws which drive this hastened race have failed to open
And the cold is ever vigilant, lurking in the sinuses of apathy
Forlorn attempts to reconciliate have piled consistently
And further ones will also fail inevitably
The need for a past is much greater than the search for a future
Knowing what has been matters more than what will come
For dying knowing what could have been is easier,
than to die not knowing what was.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 6:54 PM UTC
Like a pin cushion I wait for the next edge to serrate,
it's been months since I've felt such hate
The metal will not yield
It refuses to bend and spill; lashing obscenely, obstinately adamant
The screws which drive this hastened race have failed to open
And the cold is ever vigilant, lurking in the sinuses of apathy
Forlorn attempts to reconciliate have piled consistently
And further ones will also fail inevitably
The need for a past is much greater than the search for a future
Knowing what has been matters more than what will come
For dying knowing what could have been is easier,
than to die not knowing what was.
Having bad days... hence bad poetry. this is my latest work... as opposed to all my other posted poems. 13th may '13
