May 1, 2010

Sitting alone on a coffee stained couch
The youme contemplates irrelevant things
And raps fingers against a wine glass
Till its sloshy contents near escape

The youme refuses dinner tonight,
No longer needing the things that
Normal people seem to need like
Sleep or regular daily activities

How long a youme could stay indoors
Is anyone’s ridiculous speculation
Days and months could sail past
Before reality becomes a necessity

Books become long lost friends
And films become anxious memories
What could a youme possibly know of time?
Other than that it is deceiving

And when all is said and justly done
Who should care for a youme’s fate
When cars rush by like bloodstreams
And people exchange one another like coins.

3 Responses to “Youme”

  1. saxsquatch Says:

    What could a youme possibly know of time?
    other than it is deceiving


  2. noranoir Says:

    The last 2 lines were stellar! It was all good. I’m glad the Sieve scooped you up! Every read is delightful.

  3. tynedaile Says:

    thankyou my lovelies. you are all fantastic wordsmiths.

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