Tick tock, little music box
Pluck out your metal comb
With my key that spins your locks
Your chimes echo a tune in monochrome
Strumming the whispers of the heart
Soft hums of a serene yet eerie lullaby
Each round ends with a goodbye
But with my key, such tune would always restart
Let me spin you again, your only chime
Allow me to hear your little song
Because unlike you, I don't have time
But without me, you're only a metal box
Oh, little music box
Your repetition amazes me
Ongoing, never changing
I envy your ability
My days are running out
I can see an end in my route
The ability to just go about
Ends here, fast and abrupt
So stay here for eternity, little music box
Quietly playing your tune for the rest of your lifespan
Because for you, I no longer can
YOU ARE READING
Stanza
Poésie"IT'S POEHTIHC" Said the nut, who's one of the authors of this book. "...YOU BAKA, FOINE" Was what the potato, the other author, replied as she laughed and wondered what's wrong with them. This book is a compilation of poems made by two weird author...
