A Poem About Trying to get Help Against Racing the Clock

I’m really surprised I was able to knock this out as quickly as I did.
I think it was about four minutes of writing. Quite possibly less.
The only thing I had was the initial idea of writing about not being able to write which is pointlessly meta, but from there it became this.

Maybe it’s worth working on and expanding at some point down the track as it really is a rough draft. However, right now I think the idea is good. Perhaps humorous; I don’t know.

I hope you enjoy.

They sat down to write
So as to race
Against a clock
And themselves

They started strong
Or so they thought
For when came steadying
They lost their footing

They tried to move
They could not
For their steps
Were in imbalance

They could not stop
Time was always ahead
And so they turned
To the sky

They called out
To receive assistance
They fell to the ground
And pleaded their case

The sky was silent
And so passed days
Where they begged
And they hoped

The noise was long
It was loud
It was unbearable
And so the sky spoke

The sky heaved
It shuddered with violence
And it finally answered
With a heavy downpour

About Stupidity Hole

I'm some guy that does stuff. Hoping to one day fill the internet with enough insane ramblings to impress a cannibal rat ship. I do more than I probably should. I have a page called MS Paint Masterpieces that you may be interested in checking out. I also co-run Culture Eater, an online zine for covering the arts among other things. We're on Patreon!
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