New York's Christmas Carol

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Just getting back into the flow of things again.

Submitted: November 26, 2012

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Submitted: November 26, 2012

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Hang up

Those clocks on a wall

Each own's heartbeat

flickering slowly,

essence of doom.

If she doesn't have time

she has nothing left.

Her miscellaneous misconception lingers

from looking at New York rainbows

One must only get

tired, fatigued, malnourished.

 

New York now is your last

chance to right the wrong

writer to write christmas carols -

Only in four seconds.

Gone.

Away, away.

In a strangers grasp.

Grasp.

Gasp, gasp.

He's taking me with

that track of thought

guiding me into that

dark cave where light

is emitted in the form

tears, droplets, river, floods.


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