The days repeat,
for a lifetime of groundhog days.
that evade the conciseness.
As if hiding in plain sight
yet were echoes of before.
Our lives are woven in to
twenty three hours,
fifty nine minutes,
sixty seconds of rinse & repeats.
Where caged in our meaningless
eventuality.
A mind numbed,
by the sanitation of our existence,
a reiteration of life's decay.
