March 25, 2005
-
Time - by me
(my true feelings on all this rot--this is my shortened version)
My hourglass has broken.
I feel need to cross the Styx,
Yet I'm missing my token,
And my clock constantly ticks.
I need this draining clock to stop,
Because sick time slowly consumes me.
I hate to see the second hand drop.
My restless soul itches to break free.
Pictures are my precious Soma
The oblivion of my mind.
I long to stay in this coma,
Yet all I'd rather just rewind.
Time does not bind the Divine,
And all mortals worship it.
Time inebriates like wine.
Oh how I DESPISE this pit.
I'm addicted to this pain
Living for every second.
In the end, it's all in vain,
Yet time's fingers still beckon.
Comments (1)
You're such a great poetess. I am coveting your poeting skills. I mean read the Dr. Seuss. That's about as deep as I go. You know my thoughts on time now. It's funny that they're so opposite. That sunset was the most gorgeous thing ever though.
I'm coming over to your house to watch Fight Club. But we're not going to be like the stupid fairyshrimp and fight each other and punch walls afterwards. We're going to be like girls that think less about butterflies, hugs and bunnies and more about Brad Pitt and Edward Norton and Johnny Depp and Colin Ferrel and Cush and Steve Brandon Carter.
Comments are closed.