Suelement

by David   Jul 23, 2006


Blind to minutes, moments
They make no difference
Tick, Tick
Time bomb
My personal monsters underneath my bed
Whispering the messages hidden beneath what you said

The door creaks open
Splinters of light assaulting
In company with that dreaded, dreaded frown

As the ticking drives me mad
Seconds get stuck in the air
With the anticipation of

The words slowly forming in this awkward circumstance
The ones I hold my ears open to only by persistence
And I lean on a ticking time bomb called faith

That forces be to believe-
That you won’t leave-
Me, Seulement, Alone.

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Latest Comments

  • 16 years ago

    by David

    True enough , those moods are all too placid and morose.

  • 16 years ago

    by Derf K

    Sometimes when you are alone is when 'personal monsters' are most alive.... curious stat of affairs. Good poem, btw.