PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Becoming Time


I have my moments,
Where I lay awake
Hour after hour.
Minute after minute.
The tick tock of the ever subtle clicking,
My mind whirls and twirls
A dance amongst the fantastical
Even whimsical
It takes flight 
Amongst the adventures 
Dreaming 
As a smile gently blossoms on my lips
Then;
Slow of breathe 
As the chest pauses 
Then quickens in pace 
A nightmares promises.
I lay curled in yearning
Reaching and slipping
It’s comforts ripped away
My arms offer lonesome hope
Dragging in emptiness
A cold warmth my hands can only hold
A ghost’s touch
Whimpers spilling from my lips 
In time with the ever clicking
The ticking and the tocking
I am enslaved
My mind detached
The chimes of the clock strike
Vibrating through my bones 
The pulsating of my heart
Drowning me with sound
My agonizing yells 
A mere chiming from my mouth
Reapeatedly till twelve
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.