Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2011
Clocks are Torture.
creeping towards the never ending
going nowhere
never here, never far away
still moving carefree
while I
wait
for insignificance
for nothing
still I stress, going nowhere
Yet again, can't find the end.
Why?
No answer.
No silence.
Ticking.
seconds, minutes, hours
of my life go by
drowned by the sound
of the ticking.
Clocks are Torture.
Aspen
Written by
Aspen
537
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems