Sitting in a meeting
Welsh bloke talking
Time is fleeting
Lilting, yawning,
Been going on since early morning.
Weary, dreary.
Yet far from here
In other places
Boss is stressing
Stamps and paces
Time is fleeting
Heart stops beating
Ambulancing
Blue lights dancing
Not so drear, shouts of “Clear!”
Panic, yelling, screaming, bleating
Time is fleeting
And in the meeting
Someone complains about the heating
Heavy eyes and tepid tempers
Dormant egos attempt a doze
Hollow people, stuck in treacle
Talked out, ear drought
Famine fish in desert
(trout)
Brains have taken such a beating.
Time is fleeting
In the lowest, darkest room
Grey-tiled, antiseptic tomb:
Sticky silence lost.
No beating on the granite bed
No heating here, just cold instead
No meeting for the gathered dead
Time has fled.
January 3, 2015 at 6:13 pm
Like it! Very thought provoking.