A sudden stop.
Whatever I was doing here,
what did I expect to see?
Went it wrong? A frown shown
I can’t shake myself free.
The -I should have’s- trapped,
without caring where I am,
the enjoyment of that moment.
Why the hell do I give a damn!
Those thoughts and worries about the bar
to which I always judge myself.
No reprieve shall I receive
I sense,
it’s five to twelve.
You’re always you own fiercest critic.
