In reality it really is just a bunch of frilly things
Stuck in time she is
Stuck in time he is
Never growing, emotional stumps
Frozen in time
The inertia of their very being
Holding them to the very thing they found precious
So very very very long ago
And now they can’t see it
They are in the race
Traveling the furlongs
No awareness of presence of beings
Blinders holding them to the sole path they follow
And they wonder
Why is my ass hurting so much
Who in hell is whipping me and why would they
I really hate this
But it is all I have known
I hope I can have oats tonight
1 comment:
A rut is just a grave with the ends kicked out . I like and hate how well you've stated that.
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