Dangling Man

By QuintinShadow

I am like a dangling man
suspended on the thread of time.
I seek for a meaning to life
but find neither reason nor rhyme.

I am like a helpless fly
caught in the recession’s web;
The factories are closing down;
The nation’s tide is on the ebb.

I am like a pale, fragile leaffallen-leaf-2-1172106
falling slowly to the ground
which came to bloom in Summer.
Now Autumn has come around.

I am a blank statistic
recorded by some machine
which computes figures endlessly
and is cold, inhuman and mean.

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