Yet another sluggard hour stumbles past,
it's no wonder life looks better through the bottom of a glass.
these bitter litanies you keep repeating,
are verbal fingers down my mental blackboard screeching.
Each moment in your company,
was of more quantity than quality.
My hopes and dreams - transparent phantoms,
this wayward son's irrational anthems.
Not worth spending quantity time,
life is hunger - life is pain.
Never ending quantity time,
toe the line - take the strain.
Awake in bed in quantity time,
hate to say I told you so.
Long time dead in quantity time,
next stop Hell - not far to go.
My vision is obscured - blurred by tears of anger,
these four walls a prison where I rot in stagnant languor.
My broken heart screams out
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