Morris Day and the Time

I haven't written anything remotely like this in ages (besides a set of lyrics or two) so I'm trying my hands at a poem. Starting slow, sticking to more of a narrative/descriptive form since it's something I'm more-accustomed to.

Morris took the easy route
Til life found him absurd
At time to make elastic changes
He found a loss for words
for breath
for ideas and the rest

He had no inward qualms with effort
Avoided all its worth
Was it laziness?
Apathy?
Lethargy?
Futility?
None of the above
It was relativity or lack there-of

But desire for success so pressing
And memories of youthful blessings
Suddenly his class had worth
A dime for every day since birth

Time escaped and youth forgotten
Childhood and romance wanton
Memories perfectly rotten

So resolve to set upon the Earth
With mental prowess, crippled by design
Though weakened by the flow of time
A dime a dozen, still a dime

The End

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