Sun Life - Poem 4 (Home)
Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris
I wish I had died a century ago,
It was much easier then.
There was no Frank Windsor to tell you how to do it.
Nowadays it’s not the free clocks,
But the paper kills you.
Rolls of dead trees,
Keeping you resting in peace.
There are too many revolutions in this generation,
Like breath they come to a halt.
The lines of age are as warped as the morals,
The fatter the wallet,
The thinner the excuse.
The faster Agrippa’s shadow,
The merrier the widow.
On the dot it strikes the hour,
And it resounds louder and faster,
Better to burn out than fade away?
But only the body fades,
Bureaucracy never dies.
People of plastic are people of paper,
But those whom are organic, fade much, much later.