By: Jim Bates

Thought disposing thought.
Good memories forgotten.
Greenhouse gases proliferating.
Grey mood developing.
Days seemingly numbered.
Meaning is lost until tomorrow,
When it begins again.
Belly button starring into the abyss.
Wake up now!
Wake up, Fate cries out,
Before you’ve lost yourself,
This one chance you’ll ever have
To wonderfully live.
Somewhere they are out there,
Holding hands.
Those fervent lovers.Those fortunate two.
Mightily forging on into tomorrow,
Refusing to believe in impending doom.
Fate cries out again.
They listen.
They embrace.
And then they smile.