gold to cold

don’t fuss yourself with time
it goes fast, without pain
this constant loss of speed is age
that makes us weak and long for more
than we can hold or long for

sometimes it’s best to let go
forget the past, the future – what you’ve been
wished, will – nothing’s to come
the shore, the sun, the jamaican rum
your rest at the beach is but a dream

and as you succumb to the great power
of magnetic and gravitational events
(and yes, they are various and fickle)
try your best not to draw too many eyes
they’re all gods, and like yourself
liable to sudden erratic changes




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