Nowmomentism 8-24-19 #37
is ending
and yet our skin clock
so many regrets so many...
tears falling on the blood...
going on and on
basement of darkness...
if you only knew the story...
through the ages
this thing we call time
going on and on
the old old story...
an endless clock
is ending
through the ages
the endless cycle
what is this thing
long ago in a little home...
a floor covered in regret...
it was a home of terror...
and yet our skin clock
this thing we call time
torn clothes and bruised lips...
an endless clock
a small child was crying...
what is this thing
the endless cycle
hidden chains in the walls...
👁 1💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
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.