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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #418911
This came from my "muse."
Sitting in a coffee joint
sipping a mocha,
While a folk artist sings of life experience
And we are all vicariously entertained.
I meditate on tantric illusions: Psychic vampires conceived
By New Age confusion;
Mantras creeping and swirling around us
The world floats by outside.
While at the intersection the semaphores change
unceasingly
I feel an sense of impending doom...
Checking my watch I wait for the crash...
but it never occurrs
Psychic vibrations urge me on to other places, but
I sit ignoring all
Rationalizing:
too broke, too tired, not enough education
"My family wouldn't like it"
outside, on the street, a car accelerates through the yellow light, beating the red
I sigh, finish my coffee, and get up
Thinking about work on Monday, car repairs,
bills
I shrug away aspirations. Everyone's right.
You gotta repay the loans, buy a house, fix the car
Prepare for the tomorrow that may never come...
(sometimes those ignored psychic warnings catch up)
Now as I enter the light, taking one last chance to glance at my shattered, prone form,
one question glares at me from the embrace
of eternity
"Why didn't you come when I called?"
I lower my head in shame, nothing to say
But God demands an answer.
"I'm sorry Father," I say, "Life got in the way."
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