Photo By: Collin Hardy

It sifted through hands –
Broken, shattered, fragmented –
Pricelessness exchanged for triviality.
Reality became urgent, in urgency,
Attention forgot priority.
Multiplied seconds grew
Into hours,
Into years,
Into decades,
Into a lifetime.
As they passed, awareness came.
It could not be returned.
Once wasted – disappeared.
With age came knowledge,
But knowing did not compensate the waste.
It was violated by mundane choices,
Betrayed by unclear precedence.
Constant partial attention
Allowed humanity to become shadows:
What they could be was blocked by
Their decisions, and slowly
Time took everything from them.


A World of Books

Books by Patrick Goethe
Picture Taken by: Patrick Goethe

Spinal infinity,

Paper cuts of eloquence,

Worlds outside my vicinity,

Knowledge that’s tenebrous:

I’ve found these in my world of books.

You can call me outlandish,

And stare at me,

You can call me childish,

And I will not notice, because I’ll be

In my world of books.