Some Verse for the Worse. (Or for the better, whichever time will tell.)
Poetry or some semblance of same. 10/18/03 9:25am

I am at the computer, computing,
Verbalizing at last on the word processing software that comes with the blogger
And looking at life one last time,

Before tomorrow.

Poems paint a pallid putrid past, and pustules on the skin gather dust,
As do the books in closeted cases covered by diamonds on the glass,
In hilltop mansions,
unread,
but admired by millions.

The paper tells stories of armageddoned interest,
and life goes on for some,
and stops for others.
I am disheartened, disillusioned, dismayed,
And abandoned by my own self importance.
I talk to the vestiges of humanity,
and as usual, they always tell me to shut up.

I am just typing unintelligible gibberish as usual, as the clock ticks ever so quickly,
And the voices in my head can't seem to agree

Live life and prosper,
Pass on and out,
Pull the covers over the head and breathe easy.......
Waiting is sometimes difficult for the prescient.