Gone. By CpSingleton © 2014
Future speeds on hard and fast.
The past is gone: dead at last.
I’ve said my piece, on deaf ears,
I go now where dear smiley steers.
Over yonder, down green dale.
My bags are empty of all that’s stale.
The rain falls down in heavy drops.
This is where my past self stops.
No more wond’ring, it’s been said:
All the vermin poisoned; Dead.