Today, hammers ring out, rhythmic banging in the hands of workmen
renewing gutters and down pipes,
many times I wielded a hammer too, in past reincarnations of a work life.
Now, my fingers, like so many small hammers, fall heavy onto the keyboard, punching letters, hoping to make some sense, out so much nonsense. My twisted muscles would complain with too much pain and discomfort, if I were foolish enough to pick up a hammer, so I resist the temptation as much as I can, and reminisce about past life lived with so much vigour and carefree good health, when time was other than today.
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 6:16 AM UTC
Today, hammers ring out, rhythmic banging in the hands of workmen
renewing gutters and down pipes,
many times I wielded a hammer too, in past reincarnations of a work life.
Now, my fingers, like so many small hammers, fall heavy onto the keyboard, punching letters, hoping to make some sense, out so much nonsense. My twisted muscles would complain with too much pain and discomfort, if I were foolish enough to pick up a hammer, so I resist the temptation as much as I can, and reminisce about past life lived with so much vigour and carefree good health, when time was other than today.