A clock made by she done for he.
As she sat under the flaming tree.
The clock long broken but still correct.
As he threw it in the river to neglect.
Each shard now below.
The children trying to get them all out,
Without disturbing the river's flow.
As their minds kept filling with doubt.
The clock once again goes round and round.
As the children could hear the drowned.
Their blue eyes filled with hate.
Blaming the humans for their horrible fate.
They grab the children ignoring their screams.
Pulling them down into the river streams.
The clock stops ticking as their hearts stop to beat.
The time rewinding to when she met he.
As it tries to cheat,
The spirit of three.
YOU ARE READING
my Poems
PoesíaJust a book I will use to publish my poems. My poems mostly are about not happy topics like depression, loss, remorse, etc. But I do have a few happy ones.
