Our Master, Time Poem by james watkin

Our Master, Time



With feet protruding from out
A lazy shade, day-long
For fear we lower our respect
To him, ready with thong

Up and doing, must be seen.
Slaving for our master.
Panting, anxiously; more and more!
Whilst thanking, heartier!

Thursday, September 29, 2022
Topic(s) of this poem: time
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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