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i ran out of time and i
poetry [ ]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [Paul_Gabriel_Sandu ]

2016-05-08  |     | 



i ran out of time and i

am cut off from myself

like a soldier from his sword

i have no memories of colors

and things seem to happen and grow around me

without meaning

like grass on a field

it's always seven or ten past seven

and someone is babbling to me and i

gesture back trying to apologize

for not understanding

i laugh and i ramble

about some strange memories

i can’t really make sense of

and i sit on a chair in an empty room

trying neither to stay awake nor to sleep

waiting for the day to collapse on itself

like an old, useless building;

i ran out of time and i

am cut off from myself

like a rat from its nest

holding the map of an old town in my hands

hoping to make something out of it hoping

to find my way back –

back from where and where to?

i ran out of time and i

am cut off from myself

like a wacko from a madhouse

caught in a middle of a game

where you have to move chairs

from one room to another and i

am always losing track of which room i

have started with

so i keep carrying chairs back and forth endlessly

in the humming noise of some electric equipment

which is somehow part of the game

although i can't figure out how;

i ran out of time and i

am cut off from myself

like a little boy from his abusing father

i know someone expects from me

to do some great thing

to be successful in some meaningful way

but the only thing i can do

is to wait for the internet connection to fail

so i wont have to find some lame excuse

for ending the conversation

before making it for the bed;

and this is the moment when a short middle-aged guy

approaches me with a smile

asking me for some change

and i notice an even shorter woman

following him timidly like a child

and for one moment i feel alone

before eventually falling asleep

i ran out of time and i

am cut off from myself

like a prophet from his god

please take me with you

i beg everybody i see

but everyone passes me by like cars racing away

in a black-and-white photo

of despair

.  |










 
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