The Drum Bunker

Up again at twelve am 

And wondering what to do.

Old thumper in the chest

Is doing her best

But lately been less than true.

It would help immensely

Gigantically, yet gently

To blacklist the donut mill.

And to lose the one round

My maxi middle too,

Seriously, though,

It’s worrisome some

And need to get serious now.

Each day is one

To marathon run.

Each day is made from hours

Which in turn is minutes made.

So working on the five minute fade

I choose not to indulge

As the craving comes and goes.

Minutes stacked one by one

To save the thumper,

The beating drum,

And show honor to

the drum bunker.

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