If I devolve into hopelessness

Do not think less of me
Forever is nothing known
Every moment nearly temporary
In a structure that demands it’s own permanence

Like the cement suffocating trees
The tick of a clock decreasing
The value of a wage
The tar reaching out to touch the lip of sand
That guards the ocean

Do not think less of me if I desire
Into hopelessness, bitterness and bite
The funny melancholy that catches me laughing
the absurdity into existence

It is as much a part of me as this wasteland
And on some days I almost prefer it

 

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