Enter content here
Enter content here
Enter content here
The Clock
I.
It's face stares at me
I gaze upon it's soft features
It's hands slowly wave to me
a lost friend
II.
Every second the beginning gets farther away
Every second the end gets nearer
Every second the hands go round
III.
The outside may be seamless
But the inside is a clawing shelf
Tinkering with the shelf
One can create the perfect machine
One can create a flawed machine
IIII.
At the end of the day only two things are true
The first is a mystery
The second is that the clock's hands
Will keep turning
V.
Tick-tock... Tick-tock... Tick-tock
I cannot shut out the horrible scissors
They pierce me, showing what is inside
VI.
Everywhere I go I see a clock
All is one schedule
Only interested in what the clock says
Not caring for the simple subtleties outside the clock
THE WORLD
VII. The clock moves slowly
The voice of the instructor drones on, and on...
VIII.
Breath ceases
I try to keep the hands moving
To what avail?!
IX.
The count has almost reached sixty
58-59-... ... ...
60, A minute has passed
Only sixty more
X.
The clock skin was gold
It's chain a death of rope and life
The key slowly sinks as a snake
twisting it's prey
giving life
XI.
He stepped into the sleek black machine he had been making
It was cold and artificial, lacking the grace of it's precursor
But he knew what he was about to do
And once he stepped into this unnatural machine
There would be no correction fluid to write over this chapter
XIII.
This clock most precious flows
It is a great flower in the sky
A fire, a magic
It dips and rises
It fills your vision
It is beauty beyond love