THE FEAR OF ICARUS’ SON

Fear of burning out
Life pans out the way it would
From fried pan to fire

Like burning talent
malevolent dreams of fame
hot cake turn to coals

image

A death wish come alive
Drive slow is the advice
Like a deaf ear owed

The currency wired
Salient genie satisfied
‘Twas all for my good

Smell of burning fish
Like fried trout in leaps and bounds
Roped to the lime light

Icarus’ son
Close to stars, not quite reached yet
Heat of the race
I’m out of turbo.

(c) John Spurgeon. 2015. All rights reserved.

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