Face Like A Clock, (Looked)
The later things gotthe earlier we became
my face looked like a clock (tick-tock)
and you could tell me anytime
"Read my palms, do they look red?"
I had to climb the tree outside for proof
Of just how tall you really were heading through the roof,
Oh how the faceless mob drone on about a spy in the sky
Light like instantly pouring from every pore of yore my poor eyes
Set the dates and the hands pointing low and high
Why would I ever want to close the book we dreamt
Forever is so long
Unless you guess it's not
the earlier we became
The later it got.
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 726 times
Written on 2014-07-19 at 01:23




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