03-09-2014, 11:19 PM
I woke in a dream
To familiar sounds,
The ticking of a clock
The hands spin round.
I found an old toy
Covered in dust,
The clock kept on ticking
Croaking in rust.
The sound of future
Ticked into past,
For whom did the flag fly
Raised at half mast?
My world blurred slightly
Colors faded,
I clutched my old keepsake
But it has jaded.
This poem has no meaning
I'm just quite bored
My mother calls "dinner!"
I rush in accord
To familiar sounds,
The ticking of a clock
The hands spin round.
I found an old toy
Covered in dust,
The clock kept on ticking
Croaking in rust.
The sound of future
Ticked into past,
For whom did the flag fly
Raised at half mast?
My world blurred slightly
Colors faded,
I clutched my old keepsake
But it has jaded.
This poem has no meaning
I'm just quite bored
My mother calls "dinner!"
I rush in accord