Burn


It won't come
I wait for what's not coming
thought sometimes I feel a humming
or a drumming in my stomach
it won't come.

I deprive
Deprive myself of everything
Not needed for a song to sing
a calling of my follies
I've deprived

Hard to say
whether these words are right or not
Though I thrive on cynical thought
A wording of my hurting
Burst in flame

It's a race.
Time itself is hard to beat
without a faster-than-light starship fleet
To beat what can't be beaten
Is to win.

By Blu, 1/14/02

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