Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2012
All I can hear
Is the quiet "tick" of my watch
Telling me
It's 8:23.
I guess time
It goes on unfaltered, undaunted
I could be dying
But the large hand would still
Treck on
To 8:24.
And it's crazy to think
That some people won't live
To see
8:30
Or even
8:25
Because people are dying
Right now
At 8:23.
See, but in the time it took
For me to write this down
It's already
8:26
And some people only ever
Got to see
8:23
Taylor Napier
Written by
Taylor Napier  California
(California)   
394
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems