Parts of a life, pieces of time,
knock at my brain, seep out in my rhyme.
Tick of the clock, sounds in my head,
Robs me of sleep, pulls me from bed.
In the past, seconds, agonizingly slow,
but the older I get, the faster they go.
Rats gnawing at the hands of a watch,
snippets of time, so easily lost.
Even as I write, minutes race by,
crystal tears, on my cheeks dry.
Parts of my life, pieces of time,
slowly reach in, extinguish my mind.
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Author Notes
Picture This, is a group of writers writing about the same artwork. Interesting to see the different ideas.
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