Long

The day is long

the day you don’t do

what you love.

Even if you just

“like” it, it’s long.

It’s not love.

It’s not passion, fun,

exciting.  It’s just ok.

That day is l-o-n-g.

You look back on

emptiness.

A hollow hollow.

Less than less.

The day is long,

unfulfilling and

empty to your soul.

It’s like you didn’t

exist.

Could be replaced by

the next robot on the

assembly line.

Your signature hardly

stands out.

You didn’t do

anything extra-

ordinary & if you

did, no one noticed.

That day is definitely

long, and not wanting

to be repeated, ever

again.

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Categories: creative writing, love, Poetry, real, time, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

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