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john-edward-smallshawPoems
and in the corner, I hear the metronome click I fill the kettle and yet still feel sick my stomach thinks my throat's been cut. but I cannot eat. I cannot compete with or beat the metronome. It steals the minutes of the day and all it does is tick and click and tick away. I want to say why don't you stop, but it catches me and mops another minute up. I pour some boiling water in my cup and forget the tea, the metronome has done for me. I see each second die and give a little less for me to live and still it ticks. It picks a moment when I blink and makes me think that all is well and the ticking is but just a shell upon the shore where timeless endless oceans roar and then it makes me think some more and ticks again. I close the kitchen door The metronome sat in the corner clicks right on, before too long my life will tick its last and in the shadows cast there will be another metronome that waits for me to tick into infinity, once more I see that endless face and in the place of midnight's dream where I shall rest my weary bones I know there'll be more metronomes.
0
Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 3:22 AM UTC
The beat
and in the corner, I hear the metronome click I fill the kettle and yet still feel sick my stomach thinks my throat's been cut. but I cannot eat. I cannot compete with or beat the metronome. It steals the minutes of the day and all it does is tick and click and tick away. I want to say why don't you stop, but it catches me and mops another minute up. I pour some boiling water in my cup and forget the tea, the metronome has done for me. I see each second die and give a little less for me to live and still it ticks. It picks a moment when I blink and makes me think that all is well and the ticking is but just a shell upon the shore where timeless endless oceans roar and then it makes me think some more and ticks again. I close the kitchen door The metronome sat in the corner clicks right on, before too long my life will tick its last and in the shadows cast there will be another metronome that waits for me to tick into infinity, once more I see that endless face and in the place of midnight's dream where I shall rest my weary bones I know there'll be more metronomes.
From this day in 2012 which is like a million miles down a dark road ago
#progress
john-edward-smallshaw
Written by
john-edward-smallshaw
70/English
Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 3:22 AM UTC
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