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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.