Yet another sluggard hour stumbles past,

it's no wonder life looks better through the bottom of a glass.

these bitter litanies you keep repeating,

are verbal fingers down my mental blackboard screeching.

Each moment in your company,

was of more quantity than quality.

My hopes and dreams - transparent phantoms,

this wayward son's irrational anthems.

Not worth spending quantity time,

life is hunger - life is pain.

Never ending quantity time,

toe the line - take the strain.

Awake in bed in quantity time,

hate to say I told you so.

Long time dead in quantity time,

next stop Hell - not far to go.

My vision is obscured - blurred by tears of anger,

these four walls a prison where I rot in stagnant languor.

My broken heart screams out