Hour Three

Motel Eternity

By Patricia Harris

Promises broken

Beneath the neon sign,

Under the night sky

I sit wondering why.

Questioning self,

And the reasoning

That I choose to even believe

In an illusion called eternity.


Temporal misnomer,

No longer assured

That I will even see the like

Of an eternity I will ever enjoy.

Knowing the definition

Of now,

Only feeling disjointed

As I realize that my choices

Lead me to see what

The illusion is in truth to be.


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