Free Seminar: Assessing Your Insurance Needs

The telltale signs of time becoming stuck,
Of stretching when I'd hoped that it would
Hurry past are here: I'm squirming in this
Chair; my feet are jumping up and down,
And anything the man up on the stage,
Whose dullness weighs upon my spirit,
As an anvil would, I can no longer
Comprehend. I'm seeing patterns in the
Perforations of the tiles on the ceiling.
What I cannot see is why I need to buy
Insurance, why I'm here and not at home,
And how this droning, dreary man can
Do this nightly, years on end, and never
Fall asleep.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 20 times
Written on 2011-03-02 at 22:19

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