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Countenance
Click, click, click, click, click
That’s what I hear, so, stick
Or should I make a move now; quick
Before the others could make me sick
Ponderous thoughts, beating heart
I should have quit right at the start
The adrenalin pushes me to part
With something, nothing, far apart
From Brooklyn, London, Tokyo, Paris
Faceless names which mean to harass
Me now hanging on the crevice
Oh where is now the stupid novice?
Oh well the time is passing by
No longer do I need to cry
It’s just a game so ask me why
Do I bother to groan and sigh?
poem
by
John B Hayes
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