With Death by my window,
I slumber in his shadow,
He yawns and coughs,
spies and waits
for the wheel to grind to a halt,
the water to slow to a trickle,
the shadows to cease their dances
and the dinghy to be adrift.
The clocks have struck,
the bells have rung,
the hour has come,
I hear him at the door.
The hour has come
for a rue laden heart to
to ponder the eternal verities.
Men are so tiresome. They never pay attention when you say "I need to talk". I mean just the other day, I had something of great importance to discuss with Dad. So, I sat down next to him on the couch while he was watching TV, Me : "Dad, I need your honest feedback. Are you listening? Dad [with full attention]: "Yeah what is it?" Me : "Well this thought has been troubling me for a bit, for a while actually. You know, like I am so totally in a dilemma. You could actually say its a sorta like a conundrum, but then its kinda bizarre. But whatever. I mean, I have been seriously thinking that I shouldn't do it. But then there are various reasons why I haven't totally written it off yet……[noticing that Dad's eyes were wavering back to the TV, so poking him] Dad are you listening ? Dad [guiltily]: Yeah. Something is bothering you. Me: Yeah so I was wondering if I should blah…blah…blah…yada...yada...yada. So you tell me, should I get my...
Comments
creates a very similar dark atmosphere :)