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Seconds tic by.
For what seems to be agonizing centuries,
minutes drag on.
Life, so full of redundancies,
and pain that so many would choose to live without knowing.
Watching a clock,
seeing the second hand racing,
whilst the hour seems to only come around when needed.
One day, you'll wake up, and it will be that tomorrow.
The tomorrow that's only spoken of in songs,
for their melodies can only capture its essence.
The essence of the fabled,
life changing, meaningful,
tomorrow.
The end is coming for you anyways, so why run to it?
YOU ARE READING
Acts of Rain ||a collection of poetry|| #Wattys2016
Poetry((Look at how dramatic past me kinda made this description)) //older poems are kinda shit// Same old empty feelings. So I've tried writing poetry now.. Mostly more on the sad side, but I am not you, the reader, and pain and beauty are viewed diff...
