Ours and Hours

Takes between eight and 18 beers
to get the tension out of my chest
I’m being put to the test
with no rest

I make my bed every day
withhold the things I should not say
isn’t that enough
It’s tough

Beds of roses come with thorns
they prick sometimes
mine and yours


Hours spent, time wasted
killing the minutes talking, talking
Saying nothing, hearing less
Nothing of consequence

Time is spent

Now what?

4 thoughts on “Ours and Hours

  1. Thank you Lis . . .

    As I penned back in 1966…

    Some folks say you’re needed.
    Others say you’re not.
    But it’s the people who care.
    Who have the answer you’ve sought.
    Answer Life… Or by death you’re caught.


  2. These steps I take are all just circles,

    Am I tethered to a post,
    repeating a test,
    following a trace of what I desire,
    or rolling the dice on a wager I don’t remember making?

    These steps I take are all just circles.

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