Hello Poetry is a poetry community that raises money by advertising to passing readers like yourself.

If you're into poetry and meeting other poets, join us to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
Time watches me
Tick tock
For a second I wasn't me
But the hour glass smashed
And i was sinking in sand
Time stands still in a distant land
The past was a present for the future a new generation to tutor
What is time?
When this was the only thing that meant
Anything to me
What is time?
When the clock is going the wrong way
Regressing into my past self
Fading into the person I never wanted to be
You brought me back down
Taught me
The clock ticked for awhile
But it shattered
As time goes on
I realize
Nothings changed
and I'm still
On the
Thought of
Penguin Poems Sep 27
She wanted to love her
but didn’t know how.
The static in her head was too loud,
crowded commotion that could ***** open her cranium countless times,
but when the clocks count soundless in your mind,
What’s the difference?
The clocks turn carnivorous,
and break down the barriers you bound around them,
destroying your defenses and leaving you defenseless as they detonate the little love you keep for yourself.
Then, there’s nothing left.
Ok but, I love this so much??? And imma kinda be upset if this gets less attention that the ones on my page I don’t like as much
Salem Noxolo Mar 27
Have I sand in my shoes?
Nay. Maybe rocks in my socks.
Nay. Maybe anvils in my pants.
Nay. Maybe clocks in my tops.
Nay. Maybe bricks in my bras.
Nay. Are my earrings made of steel?
Yet my beat is slowing,
And my feet are moaning.
My pace is similar to snails'.
My eyes are open,
But as open as the holes in a chinois.
I've not caught up on caffeine.
So maybe I should go get more sleep.
But wait!
Just gotta let my tea seap
And the incesnce burn out
And untie my shoes
While I'm at it, let's clean the house
And make some apple pies
Retie my shoes
Hide the bags in my eyes
Hold on. I've gotta go change into a dress.
Couldn't forget to curl my hair!
Umm, yea- nooo
(Also a chinois is a type of fine strainer.)
Gray Apr 4
I wish people worked like clocks
They can be tall
They can be digital
They can be old-fashioned
They can be dressed up
Or even a little bare
And when they break
You can tell
And you can fix them
And make them all better
BetTer PeoPle
Turn it back to a time
when you didn’t know what day it was
and still called me pretty.

Turn it back to a time
when we talked all night
and comforted each other.

Turn it back to a time
when I smiled
because of you.

Turn it back to a time
when I wrote long letters
to say I cared.

Turn it back to a time
when I didn’t send that out of anger
because I was left…

Turn it back to a time
when I didn’t say
that I didn’t want to be friends anymore.

Turn it back to a time
when I could walk into a room
and wouldn’t tremble at the sight of you.

Turn it back to a time
when I didn’t have to get info
about you from someone else.

Turn it back to a time
when I still saw you

Turn it back to a time
when I still talked to you

Turn it back to a time
when we had some trust
in each other.

Turn it back to a time
when I didn’t have to write things
to temporarily forget you.

If only I could turn back time.
Don’t we all wish that we could turn back time sometimes? (By the way, broken clocks is my fav song by SZA)
mitus Mar 5
For however many petals I've picked,
For however many spells I've wicked,
For however many clocks I've ticked,
For however many needles I've pricked,
I still think about you.
I still think about you but not in the same sense.
Next page