Thoughts: It Could Be Worse

I stare at the screen,

Inspiration remains amiss.

My eyes search for my dream,

I think I would have more luck with ice cream.

Life mocks, snarls and growls,

I look about brooding,

Contemplating it’s scowls.

The luck I need seems protruding.


The days drag on,

I stray along,

Each week is a test,

Cause only survivors beat the rest.

But is that all there is to it?

For only survival is what I detest.

To reach, to jump, to stretch to spread

To do more than I can before I am dead.


The days convert to weeks,

The weeks to months.

12 of them zip by so fast,

I didn’t know if they would last.

Life moves at its break neck speed,

I sit trying to contemplate my deed,

I think I’m ahead of this life, but I am a dunce,

Heck its lapped me atleast once!

And with a slight increase in waist,

I lay waste,

But in the end, I know for a fact,

The bubble hasn’t burst,

It could be worse!


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