tick, tock.
the clock ticks slowly
the hands moving so slow
you have so much time.
15 years old
you're still bright and full of life.
maybe you won't live past 25
but keep the "what-ifs" out of your mind.
tick, tock.
beat the clock.
before you hit rock bottom,
take my hand
there's so much left to see,
friend, please understand.
it's the least i can do
to be there for you
because who would i be
if people had gave up on me?
i'd just be another nobody.
tick, tock.
the clock speeds up.
did you get to live?
did you get to love?
did you thrive?
or did you just survive?
YOU ARE READING
Conversations With Myself
PoetryWhat is it that I think? Does it even matter? I leave a lot of things unsaid, unheard, and well.. Here's all the things I wish someone would've and could've heard me say.
