Sunday, August 8, 2010

200 minutes

months crawl by,
pointed noses and sickly fingers
prod and pick us all along-
hours dance fluidly about me
as I remain rooted,
idly watching the scuplted clouds waft by-
but the sparse time i have with you...
all I do is blink, and it's gone.
200 perfect minutes spent,
my only recipt:
tired eyes and a fixed but genuine smile

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