by amahlalaAberdeen, South Dakota, USA
May 2010 360 Views 4 comments
Time
Time is circular.
It has a rhythmic beat.
Every second ticks into a minute.
Every minute sweeps into an hour,
Sixty, twelve, twenty-four.
I try to ignore time.
It will not let me out of its grip.
Keeps me captive.
I beg time to release me,
Into the sweetest oblivion I know.
Time just laughs at me.
I watch the night fade into morning.
Morning erupt into night.
Damn Time for bringing me its favorite gift,
Insomnia!
It has a rhythmic beat.
Every second ticks into a minute.
Every minute sweeps into an hour,
Sixty, twelve, twenty-four.
I try to ignore time.
It will not let me out of its grip.
Keeps me captive.
I beg time to release me,
Into the sweetest oblivion I know.
Time just laughs at me.
I watch the night fade into morning.
Morning erupt into night.
Damn Time for bringing me its favorite gift,
Insomnia!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2010
About this poem:
A little bit of insomnia inspired poetryPoems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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