Program Glitch

The hours pass, unrecognized. They have me
As they want me. I am nothing, an automaton.
I come and earn my pay, oblivious to where I am
Or what I'm doing. Sometimes, though, I'm
Jolted by the thought of you, and images of us
In Paris, high up in the Eiffel Tower, gazing
At the city lights, or wrapped together on
The rocks beside a rushing mountain stream
Restore me momentarily, and I begin to wish
That we could become whole again, but, even
If I came to you, you've told me that you
Haven't, as yet, earned the time to get away.
Like me, you've let somebody make you
An automaton.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 121 times
Written on 2019-06-17 at 16:24

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