As it is

Futility

Meaningless and lonely

Alone

Sat amongst my kith and kin

No end in sight

This futility

On it grinds

My hope; a bloody nub

A stump

Worn; torn and shredded

Salted daily

From despairing tears

For this drudgery of existence

Meaningless and Lonely

Futility

Each

Each word, a minute

A line; an hour

Each day one page...

Each day, ripped from our book

and held against tomorrows flame

turned, torn and gone...

With our we hands recall

Ours is a memory of

soot smudges and papercuts

Onward

trundling along

this peculiar journey

we weave our weft and warp

trundling a long

watching as the wheels fall off

trundling and watching

wefting our warp

furfilling our yarn stretching back

woven by dead girls dancing

The Engine

Chuff Chuff Chuffing
Huff Puff Puffing
Huff Huff huff
Puff chuffing chuff
Chuffing chuff it!

The machine has run
Out of steam...

F M P

To fly
To hope
To wait...

Never Neveragainland

a potion brewing

bubbling brown in a silver cauldron

soon to be sucked up

held for a moment - a key...

ready to open a portal

ready to plunge into another world

ready for another fairytale to begin

and an old nightmare continue

Blah

stalled again

glitched

scrambling for output

 and only finding

words of no content

words on wanting words

the gates open

out drips

nowt.

A Ponder

Skipped

and now, seeing no real consequence
ponder the worth of resumption...

I suppose; propose
I must retain the will
...to continue

Tested

Fog upon the mirror

reveals the state

only slumber...

maybe tomorrow...

Beer maudlin

at times

it's kinda good

to be

where folk are not

and at other times

vanity craves

folk to reveal a thought

voice a snippet

but then

half and half and none and all

these are but passing things

and past things...

So little truely matters.