The Moment Was Arthritic
the moment was arthriticI could move
though it pained me so,
but what hurt the most—
I think,
was just staying there
my mood was katabatic
riding the groove
but what I didn't know,
it was just a ghost—
a blink,
a thought caught in mid-air
my life is psoriatic
what's left to prove?
yet there's a need to go,
to cure this ravaged host—
the link,
to endless despair
though do we dare
go there?
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