Office Poetry: Troubled Outlook

… And I Wait
No sands fall from this spinning time piece,
My blueprint of the future desperately scrambles to collect the past,
Both of us, paralyzed in anticipation.
The soft hum of progress spins into a noticeable roar,
Tension builds – an elastic band stretched to its limits,
Further, and further, and further, and…
In a thunder storm of chimes my yesterdays erupt before me.
Dismiss All – I click,
And begin to feed the storm of tomorrow

                                   – CrapMonkey Travis

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