Calculated Risks

This poem was originally published on 16 May 2015.

I picked myself up,
And faced a picture
That pointed - back at me,
Saying to the child:
"Hey, -
That's who you're going to be!"

I stepped aside,
And strapped my watch on,
Feeling the binds of time
As it clicked into place,
For what I feared the final time.

So I turned and pocket-ed my pens,
Popping a barley travel sweet,
And bit my bottom lip
To bear the weird throbbing in my hip
Bidding the background adieu
With a couple, quick, pleasantries.

A pile of past identities lay,
Strewn across the floor.
I guess I have some laundry,
I sighed a little more.

I picked up the calculator,
And stepped under the string lines,
"Come on now," I said.
It's examination time.

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