There is something so familiar within
This paper and pen
It takes this mind places
Only this soul has been
It must hold some sort of magic
There are no ticking clocks
Everything stops
The whole world is frozen
Even these decaying roses
But it seems so strange
It can take everything else away
Yet this deep lonely ache still remains
It reminds me of the cold grey gloomy rain
And I wonder
What could have left this heart with such a stain
About the Creator
Skye Day
Stay at home mom. Aspiring poet, songwriter and tattoo artist.
TICK TOCK
11.59. Even though the glass had shattered, Lorna could still see that her watch ticked over. One minute until midnight. Her watch was the only thing she had that she could carry. The only thing to remember her parents by. A birthday present from last year, the year she turned seventeen.
By Elizabeth Butlerabout 22 hours ago in Fiction
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