It's the little things. Second hands in school
clocks like hammers striking anvils too loud.
Bored seconds are forever. Years later are now.
We argue about everything. I'm always the fool.
I fret over this old typewriter's ancient keys.
I look for perfect words to write perfect rhymes
that refuse to be born. I miss the simple times,
young me at bedtime begging god on my knees.
Jan 29, 2023
Jan 29, 2023 at 9:50 PM UTC
It's the little things. Second hands in school
clocks like hammers striking anvils too loud.
Bored seconds are forever. Years later are now.
We argue about everything. I'm always the fool.
I fret over this old typewriter's ancient keys.
I look for perfect words to write perfect rhymes
that refuse to be born. I miss the simple times,
young me at bedtime begging god on my knees.
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