Scribbled Thoughts

Travel to the edge

for the scent of salt

and the grit of sand,

toss around the leftovers

and watch the joy of innocence

run to the end

and beyond.

Crack from the heat

and split to spill

the steam of revival,

leaking away energy

lost before the day

has even begun.

Reach the goal

and stumble to a stop,

too exhausted to celebrate

and already seeing

the next starting line

waiting to be crossed.

No time for rest,

no time for you.

Prepare and pre-decide

someone else’s choices

to save time,

eliminating the quiet moment

for decision

but still wondering

why they seem overwhelmed

and long to escape

into shadows.

Remember a decision

that defined a moment,

ready to change your world

but fading into inaction

and entering the realm of regret.

Can you pick it up again?

The past is forever,

already present

and shaping the future,

hide it, ignore it,

but it changes nothing,

it will never disappear

and you can never

redo your mistakes.

Opaque waters

hide the churning dark,

swirling to infect the clear

and spreading

until pure is gone

and black is everything.

Return of the clock

checking your movements,

assigning your time

the routine the same as before

but its onimous presence

reminds you

there are rules,

no freedom

and someone is watching,

always.

Add to the minimum

and hear the groan

of the lazy,

echoing no effort

but sagging into complaint,

all productive energy

focused on their wrongs.

Cracked transferred to new,

refreshing the scratches and worn

for shiny and fresh,

discarding the familiar

and beginning a new bond,

while the old

is discarded.