One Hour

It is not a lot of time. However that one lost hour completely destroys my world every year. This year I was walking around my house on Saturday, and I said to myself, “oh tomorrow is Sunday I will write my blog.” Then 2 days of completely incomprehensible existence followed. I don’t really know what I did or didn’t do until today, and even today I don’t really know what happened before I was at work.

I do not feel like ranting about how stupid I am for forgetting once again. Instead I will post this poem I once wrote.

There are no sounds coming from outside the ring,
no people watching to see who wins.
I wouldn’t bet on me.

How am I to win? I’m fighting a landslide
aware only that it destroys, and not what
it destroys, my will to persevere.

The bell rings,
the opening exchange is more one sided than I expected.
Each tick and tock another punch to my face.

A bloody, mashed up heap of flesh.
Broken jaw, bleeding and crooked nose,
cut across the forehead, dripping down
in blind, weeping eyes.

I don’t feel any of it.
The ground is hard and comfortable.

Just so you know, One Hour is not the title.