One two three four,
Counting out the days.
Nine ten eleven stop.
Start to count again.
Counting marks in sand I hate,
Drawing further lines.
Measuring length,
Width,
And hight.
And etching in the time.
Not to count,
Friends tell me.
To forget what starts the counting.
To forget the time,
And forget the date,
And to never count again.
Counting keeps me sane,
Spit i,
And I can't help I.
Two says forget,
To move on and distract,
But I cannot distract.
One labels red numbers as my worth,
Afraid I'll count again,
Still while 'fraid I am,
And two agrees with them.
I am not red,
Past is only red,
Counting cannot forget the red,
But always bring back red.
Counting won't be stopped by this,
Counting can I not stop,
I don't think it will be stopped.
Reaching into silver sticks.
I need to count again.
YOU ARE READING
Indentations
PoetryA book filled with my poems. Not all with be great, not all will make you cry. My hope is that all will make you think.
