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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1682899
When you hurt, time is relevant, and an illusion. It doesn't last forever.
Seconds melt into minutes,
and life holds its breath.

Minutes rush into hours,
a collective pause in space and time.

Hours rush into days,
the heat of passions burns
to ashes on the wind.

Days shiver into weeks,
and a hollow echo
rings through the heart.

Weeks mourn into months,
and a soul quietly shatters.

Months flow by like teardrops,
into years gone by.

And still.......

There's just a clock on the wall,
to remind you
that you're still breathing,
still running,
still aching deep inside.....
and still alive.
© Copyright 2010 Kimberly H. Staudt (kdhuggins2010 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1682899-Just-A-Clock-On-The-Wall