Magnetic Poetry

This is a random poem that I wrote in 2010 during a magnetic poetry event. Trite, and slightly weird, but that seems to be my poetic style. I do like having a record of stuff that comes out of my brain, though.

Every morning she remembers less of the universe.

A prisoner of the future, as she lingers there,

The present is a poison that haunts her.

She will not lie nor wake to joy.

There is but work and time.

Eternity is no less vast, but

She must trust to its embrace.

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