Drudge

This life,

even more so,

this world

has a way of

imposing itself.

I am not

fond of this.

The heavy feeling

of its grime,

the odor of its

self-righteousness,

so difficult

to wash away

is noxious.

It can be

exhausting.

These moments

of imposition

are just that...

Moments.

Tiny fractions

of time.

I drudge through them

knowing full well

every moment after

is better.

Thanks