Bells and clocks
The bell rings down the street. In his hand is a chilled glass. Nothing in this room is sweet. Darkness consumes the room. Time runs out until there is none left.
The bell rings down the street. The bright white gown hangs in the closet. Her heart feels incomplete. The clock tics and it feels like it'll never stop.
The bell rings down the street. With every smooth chime, more is at stake. Time to admit defeat. Times up.
Copyright © Alexis Ransom | Year Posted 2025
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment