Another oldie but goldie.
Wrinkled man held his box,
While a long way from home.
Telling me stories of aliens,
Cyborgs and old Rome.
He took the box,
Angered as he was.
He ran far away,
Escaping his flaws.
There was a specific beep,
That this box created.
After each beep he ran again,
I knew he was ill-fated.
He brought me with him,
Only for a while;
Again and again we ran,
Escaping our crimes.
He told me stories,
Of others like him;
Who they once were,
In what era's they've been.
No tear was never shed,
By this shell of a man;
His eyes were too heavy,
So again we ran.
We've traveled back,
To this man's past.
And we both were aware,
This moment would be our last.
The man has vanished again,
Leaving his memories on my shelf.
I'll never forget the future me,
Who ran from himself.
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Wrinkled man held his box,
While a long way from home.
Telling me stories of aliens,
Cyborgs and old Rome.
He took the box,
Angered as he was.
He ran far away,
Escaping his flaws.
There was a specific beep,
That this box created.
After each beep he ran again,
I knew he was ill-fated.
He brought me with him,
Only for a while;
Again and again we ran,
Escaping our crimes.
He told me stories,
Of others like him;
Who they once were,
In what era's they've been.
No tear was never shed,
By this shell of a man;
His eyes were too heavy,
So again we ran.
We've traveled back,
To this man's past.
And we both were aware,
This moment would be our last.
The man has vanished again,
Leaving his memories on my shelf.
I'll never forget the future me,
Who ran from himself.