Closing Time Poem by Kevin Patrick

Sliding away are the dead ends connecting a beige week
To a fish bowling job for the leftovers disguised as paycheque
While you’re stuck in a rut in town on the edge of nowhere
Searching for signs leading away from the roundabouts

Your consciences is thirsty for meaning inside of the circus
But stays within the boundaries of the pleasurable mirage
Confided to the tedious excursions of irrelevant videogames
As you pocket your existence like a hangover trapped mid limbo

Always running in a circle never striking beyond the road
Failures tough but it means more, if you tried to reach for gold
Then Feeling Stuck inside a cradle without a key to finding a purpose
While finding more cracks inside peeling away the vulnerable surface

Looking out as sunshine drives, the afternoon into twilight
Hoping somehow to connect, and operate a different life
But eventually you'll discover, it was only you that mattered
And then for the rest you’re stuck beneath the earth as a platter

One day you waste a month now turns, like a page inside a book
The chapters fill with blanked notes; a decade draws without a verse
And soon the story finds no glory as you reach towards the rise in climax
Unprepared without a plan as you sail towards the pilgrims end

Now Life slowly fades the seed is sowed
There’s nothing left but getting old
Getting kicked around like a ping pong ball
Growing slowly aware of the closing time