Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2020
The clock ticks the world turns,
One second to go of my last hour,
"He's gone" a voice I thought I heard,
A taste of flesh , a scent thats sour.

My soul departs this life with scorn,
And leaves no tears or hearts that mourn,
Just a clock that ticks and a world that turns,
And a bell that's struck atop the tower.
Peter
Written by
Peter  Brisbane
(Brisbane)   
103
   victoria and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems