slow jam / lost poems

the clock is ticking
notime to procrastinate
have got a lot to do
notime to hate
but the itch is still there
to make some mischief
chaos, disorder, mayhem
slow jam, slow churn
relax and watch the planet burn
at the same time i am worried
oh, i am so so fucking worried
for all the poems that slip by
because i didn't note them down
slip through my fingers like water
my hands are wet now
with memories of words
that i will never get back
i could be sad
i could lament
but notime for that
notime

--
sometimes, you just don't want to format shit. big milestone coming up for this blog. BIG