Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Days never pause and seconds are never saved and the clock continues to tick with nothing tangible beyond its face but, if I were to pause time, for just a moment: vain blue violets, would blossom in the dark of my eyes. While lawyers, counted grains of sand, during recess. Every tick, unaccounted for, would be an eternity. As the measured minutes would thaw immediately until it was time, for time, to freeze again.
0
Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 8:56 PM UTC
Cold Hands
Days never pause and seconds are never saved and the clock continues to tick with nothing tangible beyond its face but, if I were to pause time, for just a moment: vain blue violets, would blossom in the dark of my eyes. While lawyers, counted grains of sand, during recess. Every tick, unaccounted for, would be an eternity. As the measured minutes would thaw immediately until it was time, for time, to freeze again.
tash-vaux
Written by
American
Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 8:56 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem