Without a Destination

Burning hot, the tides of heat
move sluggishly along.
A heaviness that makes it
hard to breathe comes on
too strong.

They hide within their
air conditioned cubes.
Pretending that the price
is not yet due. Ill-prepared
and unrepentant. Running
scared, they serve their
sentence.

Never quite alive.
Not really dead.
A hum keeps playing
in their empty heads.
Burning hot, but unrelieved.
So sluggishly, it moves along
without a destination...

? Michaelette ?

7/19/2004
Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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