The sturdiest of metals corrodes
With unrelenting time
Time itself may rust in space.
Cars pass and pass
The failing sense of urgency
Is revived at each passing rush of wind.
My repose, when will it come?
The tension tires me.
Who sits there,
Swaddled, waiting for fodder.
As men toil behind corrugated ramparts of steel,
Watch, as these here rust before time
Sucking the marrow from chicken bones.
Subscribe for poems and interesting reads.