Conception trips the clocks hand

Thus, we’re given our head start

Tick, tick as we grow from there

Unbeknown to us, we’re the rabbit

Fetus, birth, toddler, teen, adult

Years may pass by us in our bliss

Still ignorant we’re being hunted

Like a wolf with a slightest whiff

Spent drops of our tears, or sweat     

As this hunter covers miles a day    

We traverse nonchalantly by feet     

Naively we overlooked our reality   

We drop one by one in a sneak attack  

As our life pendulum… swings back


Poet of the Light © 2023


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