Saturday, 1 October 2011


It comes to all, around
It chews the world, it makes no sound
Relentlessly to every thing
Repeat, return, recycling.

We play too oft a short term game
Forget the goal of long term gain.
Enjoy it all 'fore it's too late
Must love and laugh before our fate.

But never stops, the passage on
When tomorrows come and past has gone
When now's no more does silence fall?
No, forget the one and think the all.

For we are only residue
Of the mass that we pass through
Don't be perturbed which actions flatter
For over eons, we don't matter

Polemic Paine,
Saturday morning, on stunning views through misty dews.

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