#472 (distress signal)

Last minute call,

inhaling black coffee

and exhaust fumes

the ground wavering as

I am enslaved by the

merciless walk of the

hand, cutting my life

into minutes, seconds even.

No escape yet behind

my closed eyes I am counting

to one hundred, every single

number a promise of

freedom.

 

© Matthias Grupe, 30th July 2018

Picture:

2 Comments

  1. “enslaved by the
    merciless walk of the
    hand, cutting my life
    into minutes, seconds even…” Love these words, thanks for sharing…

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