Running Out Of Time

Oriental backstreet,
running from the chime
a clock bell getting quieter
I’m running out of time.

Time is of the essence
precious goods in my possession
street lights, chasing shadows
a paranoid obsession

The jungle of the city
A maze within the streets
I turn a corner, no way out,
As path, with dead end meets

A chill strikes me, I shiver,
as I rush up to the door,
pizza plaza, we deliver,
that’s nine pounds ninety four.

~ Andrew

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