She is of the Nuisance
time, much like having an appointment in any medical related office, is just a giant game of hurry up... and wait.
We never seem to have enough,
of the only constant in our lives;
every second,
a greedy minute,
every hour,
a wasted day;
to all, never ending,
the daughter of all haunting,
no wheeling while she’s dealing,
too good for ever forgiving,
remorse, non displaying,
loud mouth, time bomb ticking,
pseudo tears to cover laughter,
a death note delivery driver,
never ever, so sickly,
while grotesquely ever healthy,
unknowingly so deceiving,
unaware of such destruction,
all futures, endless knowing,
your future, she’s telling,
with much, nagging annoyance,
clear announcing of her presence
your back– never having,
a dealer– never fronting
race ran– always leading
The whore of creation,
Best friend of deception
Each second we live,
much closer to dying
Each moment for her,
are times of inception
On her, we’ve all cheated
one time, maybe twice,
She wins every time though,
Even when we...
roll our own dice
She can butcher a baby,
to pieces and pieces,
completely unaware,
and allow the murder of your daughter, not understanding what is unfair
Her name is no stranger
Allow a minute to ponder
A little second to consider
Some time to mull over,
what more than half of the planet’s
users, believe to be comfort
sounds like she shoulda been the one
born in a manger
Her birth name is Time,
She loves and she hates you
She doesn’t even know you
But she’ll kill you and save you
Ever so popular,
beautiful disaster
Ever so pretty,
in a dungeon of ugly
The sweetest of pie,
in the oven of assholes
An acquaintance beside us,
not of mystical design
She’ll tell US YOUR story
of how we’ll align
Respected by all
Hated by most
Shortened for some
A cunt of a host
The only Witch in our lives,
who’s allowed a little grace
While she changes her outfit,
we excuse her second face
Green slime with a quickness,
turned delightful red lace
Bipolar, is she,
with gifts of candy and a rose,
then a quick turn of events
of swift eye blackening blows
Sounds like a scheme,
like the lowest of the low
A cop-out for delusions,
while old, we all continue to grow,
For her not knowing any better,
has always been
will always be
the only thing she’ll ever know
(2013)
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