Fragmented Thoughts, Or, Wasting Time

I Scattered, torn, ruined and needless Thoughts, Like a flock of birds, flying in the orange twilight sky, It looks good, maybe, but makes too much noise for my liking. II There are days, and then there are nights, but memories of an once beautiful Love haunt me all the time, Peace - a moment's silence - is more precious than the look in an Angel's eyes III And I have ran out of ideas, but not short of memories, Memories - of You and I - us... Us, that never wasn't We never existed together uniformly, like atoms of Hydrogen and Oxygen in water IV On a short moment's notice, High on three hundred milligrams of Venlafaxine, and low on controlling the high flow of my memories of you, Depressed and lethargic, I started to pen a poem about my fragmented thoughts V What are thoughts? ............................................ ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. Read between the lines and maybe your and my thoughts may combine into a poem - maybe a Haiku VI A lonely poet in a frustrated frenzy wrote a poem that looked crazy And made no sense. VII Sense is an interesting thing, like sensing that this isn't really a poem, but a caricature of a poem, A wastage of Time VIII Is Time precious? Is YOUR time precious? Is YOUR TIME more PRECIOUS than mine? then I apologise I ate up yours. IX I apologise to myself too that I had ate up my own time, Or did Time devour me? Do we spend our time, utilising it, or wasting it or maybe, merely, enjoying it in a lazy leisure? X It doesn't really matter, Your Time, my Time, our Time, Time's Time, All will go on Spend it, waste it, do whatever you like, read a silly poem, Time will go on... Was it worth it?