Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

The Cruel Hand of Time

Poetry By: Argetlam

Ugh...I hate my life...

Submitted:Dec 21, 2011    Reads: 20    Comments: 4    Likes: 1   

The hand on the clock ticks by

I sit grievously wondering why

My love has left me, without a hope

Threw me off the edge, without a rope.

I should have seen it coming

I should have done the summing

I should have seen the signs

The clock whirrs and whines.

He lifted me up high in the air,

I thought it was the answer to my prayer,

But he only lifted me to throw me down

Now I can't get away from that relentless ticking sound.

You see the clock only serves to remind,

How although stillness in a moment I find,

That the clock ticks by without a care,

That I now have none with whom that time I can share.

So I now continue to fall,

In the same moment, yet not the same at all

Wondering when I'll hit the bottom of the pit,

And in the very depths of my agony then sit.

The clock ticks on without a care

That I now have none with whom that time I can share.


| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list


About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.