Here’s something that I quickly knocked out a few minutes ago.
Probably not that good, but it might be interesting, imagery-wise.
If all I were to do is stay and chat
And claim that someone must wear the hat
Would days pass through smaller hours
Whilst an unkempt idea only cowers?
There is a bed that must be made
In which we lie whilst dues are paid
As clouds turn to years turn to dust turn to time
And watching slowly the rise of our brine
In a subtle nod to all that has been done
We turn our backs and move to what will come
Perhaps to watch it all rewind
When the choices made become unkind