Hour 7

I cheated, knowingly so

This is a new sort of game

Posting exactly the number up to the hour

Somehow getting all the way to fifteen

In ten minutes

I know i’m cheating

I layed on a bed

No, I already wrote about this

I layed on a bed

No, I already wrote about this

I cheated, knowingly so

Made a man mad

Because this always could just flow

How boring introspection is when you’re self ascribing

The bed was a doctors table

And the man I did not know

Someone who wanted to connect

But instead I took a low blow

Carelessly, cheated him from self-discovery

Slapped him across the face of his ego

Because he wanted to really just be a poet

Instead of a doctor and if I had not cheated

We would have related but no

New to this sort of game has been the only mantra I know

Things take time

And that is actually okay

Perhaps I should have told him

Writing was the only way out of living

But I cheated – God gave me an exit gift

I cheated.  Were either of us poets?  No.


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