Little Clock
Tick, tock
I
tick,
tock,
this little clock.
Awoken by the same relentless day.
Colder rays, calendar crosses each away.
Wonder and excitement left long, arm in arm, long gone.
Pieces of paper now,
crumpled, wet and blemished
pass by each other on their separate.
They pay no mind to the clouds that outrace the wind above,
the sway of things green, the ripple of blue just outside the edge of this scene.
Once, I wanted to hold tightly this fist of all my years
Now,
I only, only wish the quiet of not knowing.
Tick, tock.
Oh, this looming, Giant, little clock.
tick.
About the Creator
Mark R. Cieslak
Trying to tell some of the silly stories that crowd my head. Maybe you like one. If not its still cheaper than therapy.
Keep reading
More stories from Mark R. Cieslak and writers in Poets and other communities.
Standing While Falling
Quotation from Friedrich Nietzsche "He who wrestles long with monsters should beware lest he himself become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you. Man is not destroyed by suffering, but by the meaning he makes of it."
By LUCCIAN LAYTH7 days ago in Critique
Comments (7)
nice one
This is beautifully written. Congrats on the TS.
Congratulations on achieving top story status!❤️❤️❤️
Thank you for making me want to wake up in the morning!
wow great job you can join my friends and read what i have just prepared for you
Nice piece♥️📝👍
Once, I wanted to hold tightly this fist of all my years - what a great line! Really enjoyed this in a sad, wistful sort of way.