Half past fifteen o-clock

Everything’s out of kilter
life has lost its balance wheel
the mainspring’s gone all slinky
the escapement’s screwed,

he thinks she is to blame
she thinks his excuses are lame,

I think that skydiving’s a viable
option and a parachute is in my
she packs it happily for me
I get worried
too easily,

perhaps I’ll go sailing instead.

© 2020, John Smallshaw.