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Tarik
Poems
Aug 2018
Eleven Minutes.
What's eleven minutes to me?
Not a thing.
I have plenty of minutes.
Eleven minutes I shall spend.
What's eleven minutes to me?
It's worth something.
But I can't help myself.
Eleven minutes I shall spend again.
What's eleven minutes to me?
A waste.
At this stage, countless minutes I'll never get back.
Eleven minutes I wish I still had.
What's eleven minutes to me?
I'm afraid I can't answer that.
It's not that I don't want to.
I physically can't.
Because I am no longer physical.
#time
#minutes
#life
#eleven
#ambiguous
#death
#physical
#existential
#me
Written by
Tarik
19/M/the end
(19/M/the end)
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kieran dacey boylan
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