– quit crying d.j. –

There’s no time left to be ap-
palled… summer came and
went; my hormones well-
spent. Heat a-
scended, descended, and
sent me up the wall.
When placing blame,
who should I call?
There’s no time left to be a-
fraid… I just come and
go; my feet I now
know. Waves a-
scend, descend, and
bend me by the shore.
When playing games,
who will keep score?

Catch me, catch me
wasted from my wasted hours.
Catch me, catch me
jaded in my empty tower.
Summer’s dead and done,
in the east coast sun, and
there’s no time left, no
time left at all.

D.J. Whisenant

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