Time ticks by, second by second, closer.
Running short on time, what do I do and how?
What do I do and will it matter now?
Options run short, i was never much a choser
My impression is temporary, small
What is the point of waiting for the end
won't go anywhere, why not join the bend?
Because that's it once ground bound after fall
After marking end, your time is over
Your own little clock stops tick tocking closer
And everyone gathers round, face fixed a frown
What's done is done, even with your lucky clover
No matter if magazine is familiar
Because our coffins all look quite similar
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryI'm doing poetry in English class. This and a tumblr post inspired me to write powems. Send in some topics, I'm trying to make my poems diverse. Give me ideas!
