Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Some changes happen too quickly To observe with the eye - Some fractures flex so fast one wonders     where they came from, suddenly Water is leaking in, The mind floods, you didn't intend To let things get so dismayed. Some changes happen so slowly They can only be noticed in retrospect, Collapsing each frame into immediate adjacency, Only later appreciating each movement and change, Trying hard to reckon all the time that has passed, Suddenly sick with your inability to recollect - Where did each minute go? What did     each moment try to say when     you weren't listening? They eventually wrote you a note and left -     no phone number to call, no address to follow - But it isn't your fault you couldn't see Each changing thing, each slow tear, every     wear and stretch, Most aren't even our doing, most things We don't expect to break, but everything     degrades, Day after day, eventually, in Reviewing each crease it's obvious How things have folded and bent Again and again, but only after The lines are permanent.
0
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 2:04 PM UTC
Some Changes
Some changes happen too quickly To observe with the eye - Some fractures flex so fast one wonders     where they came from, suddenly Water is leaking in, The mind floods, you didn't intend To let things get so dismayed. Some changes happen so slowly They can only be noticed in retrospect, Collapsing each frame into immediate adjacency, Only later appreciating each movement and change, Trying hard to reckon all the time that has passed, Suddenly sick with your inability to recollect - Where did each minute go? What did     each moment try to say when     you weren't listening? They eventually wrote you a note and left -     no phone number to call, no address to follow - But it isn't your fault you couldn't see Each changing thing, each slow tear, every     wear and stretch, Most aren't even our doing, most things We don't expect to break, but everything     degrades, Day after day, eventually, in Reviewing each crease it's obvious How things have folded and bent Again and again, but only after The lines are permanent.
michaela-dolly
Written by
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 2:04 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem