In a second
The clocks of our hearts
Can tick, tick
Stop
The mechanisms of us
All can rust
Sputter
Die
With each gear
We all turn
Veer
Spin
Were held into place
By parts essential
Dear
Rare
For a time
We have loved
Hated
Envied
Yet all the time
We are headed rapidly
Swiftly
Hastily
To our junkyards
Where we crumble
Disassemble
Destruct
Now let us turn
From our bars
Chambers
Cells
And break free
So we may live
Pursue
and Dream
Break our chains
That make us machines
Who wait
To break
1 comment:
nice style. im getting more into that kind of punctuation in thought. from couplets to free verse to whatever you call this. poetic maturity i think
Post a Comment