Timing is perfect,
Or perfectly awful.
The only thing I
Can count on is
For shit to
Go wrong.
Why? Why, I ask,
Does my fate have
The uncanny ability
To treat me like
An abusive lover.
Timing is a
Cruel joke,
Made to make
One sweat out life.
And, for what?
The glorious feeling
Of stress and despair?
What is the point?
Devilish laughter
Comes from
Father Time.
Fate colludes with
Him gladly.
The suffering
Of the peons
Pleases them
Greatly.