Memories of post apocalyptic minors

first attempt at a rhyming scheme.

Trying to meet the future before the world folds in. 

Lost my keys to the Delorean while gambling.

Lost the definition of life, or was it the meaning?

Said it all in black, but was that the wrong thing?

Had a meeting of men to discuss the dreamt things.

Molding a dozen minds, must have been the gleaning.

Leaving my core on my collar is still most frightening.

Feigning my past to pass the present, for future assuring.

Reviews

[JC]

making me think with descriptiveness of vague beauty and intrigue