Poem – Dimples

On the grand scheme of things, you see,

It’s easy – you are a lessee,

A tenant. But careful – only for now.

Just numbers. Numbers. They’re simple.

With every deepening dimple

A shrinking number of steps is allowed.

To be frank, though it’s hard to be,

I prefer that it’s you – not me –

Who is getting close to the finish line.

Just numbers. Numbers. They’re simple.

With every deepening dimple

This route won’t stop seizing to be benign.

Remember, you entered the race.

You were smug, now look at your face.

Yes, you are struggling and gasping for breath.

Just numbers. Numbers. They’re simple.

With every deepening dimple

It’s you – not them – who is closer to death.

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