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Oct 2012
I would trade a dollar fifty just to have a moments peace
And it may not seem much, but in truth, it's all I have
The winding of the clock on my wrist seems to never ever cease
And all my friends try to reassure me it's not that bad
But each ticking, talking second speaks to me in a impish voice
Waving goodbye as they jump out my window pane
Too much work, so much trouble, popping bubbles called my dreams
As the ticking, talking rings around my brain
So let's trade

There is nothing that comes free in this world of hollow shells
And the only thing more hollow are the victories
For as time rolls by the lines in my face become more evident
And my eyes squint as I try to look for grasses green
Every noise that enters my ear, every person who beckons me
Is a clamp upon my chest leading to a heart attack
So many things that I've done in the past and presently
That I find the hardest thing's not looking back
So here's my dollar fifty

I know you read, hear this, know this entire rhyme to be as true
As the blue we try to paint on greyer skies
I would beg you take my money now, because the clock is ticking down
With this poem alone at least half an hour's gone by
So I get on my knees and pray for one minute and thirteen seconds
To the one who outlasts space and all time
I would be lying if I said I didn't feel my age counting down the hours
So all I can do is pray for peace of mind
And offer my dollar fifty
Nik Bland
Written by
Nik Bland  30/M/Port Charlotte, FL
(30/M/Port Charlotte, FL)   
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