Onward and leeward I plough through the current,
Even when having fun I’m wondering when it will end.
Wishing it was tomorrow night so that I’d be over the mundane work,
Instead of enjoying the sunny day post meridian.
The reality as I live being of perpetual discontent.
So used to being discontented that contentment would be insufferable.
The only ones who are truly satisfied are those who have to be.
We persist to indulge our pain.
Like the burn of a clean shave makes us feel fresh and sore,
We’re haunted by the present,
Racing towards the past flinching at the future.
Residing memories threatening to spring to life at any moment,
Nothing more vacant.
Echoes of silence fill the abandonment.
A child’s beloved toy discarded with age.
Ghost towns of nuclear test sites.
Dilapidated theme parks gone to ruin.
– Anthony Ward