Tick-tock, tick-tock,
The end is near.
The clock is speaking,
Can you hear it?
His finger so gently strokes my locks,
The gentleness of his lips on my cheek,
The smiles of two meet simultaneously as one.
All darkness is overtaken by the bright narrowing light emerging upon the two.
The moment.
Love, happiness, blithe.
But what happened to ....
And what about ....
All is forgotten,
In the moment.
Tick-tock, tick-tock
The end is near.
The clock is speaking,
Can you hear it?
Suddenly anxiety arrives.
The bright light seems to dim.
Those fingers become so rigidly uninviting,
Those lips approach mysteriously.
The one smile of two is irretrievably broken.
The moment is no more.
Tick-tock, tick-tock
The clock is speaking,
Can you hear it?
The end is near.
The end is here.
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3 comments:
hmmm...
very nice. it sounds like a poem i just wrote on my poetry blog.
you have a sweet pen that you've been hiding i see. LOL.
reading this nice piece reminds me of a song i used to hear on the radio back in the days...
"as we layyy, we forgot about tomorrow...as we layyy."
And why exactly do I not have an invite to the poetry blog????
Nah don't put me in the sweet pen category, I just dib and dab a little :)
lol @ 'dib and dab a little.'
You are sweet with the prose. Trust me. I wouldn't read it, if I didn;t think you were. You're good, missrook...
Poetry blog invite coming up.
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