A free verse written by Lee Sonogan
“There will be killing till the score is paid.” ― Homer, The Odyssey
Stick fire in front of these eyes,
Stab a pitchfork into the chink of my armour,
Melt your shortcoming upon mine,
I shall do the same as I see the same foible.
In reduced circumstances is a good day,
Because of what I get coming into possession of,
If too galvanize death’s door,
Motley quietus change diurnally workaday.
People always talk about how time flies; it’s become sort of a colloquialism now. You don’t really understand it until you reach your late 30s and early 40s – and I’m sure time will move even faster as I get older. – Ben Gibbard