Clockwork

Time passes, yet ticking remains the same, progression becomes wistful dream Broken clocks, this pattern is pain This Pattern is heartbreak and pensive screams Repetition drains me , the gaining and losing Has stripped me bare Perseverance is all I can offer you, tho to this pattern I’ve become aware Of the temporary “forever loves” of the short lived peace That after you hold me close like clockwork you will release Release me back into plaintive truth Release me back to where I was before you Release me into the dark room to cry Release me into internal doom to die adolescence leaves, Yet ticking remains the same Desire dries up, and love falls short Tho I can’t figure out if I am to blame Or if these broken clocks simply distort My mind. Into following these patterns, into not allowing me peace Into only loving temporary The lack of commonality or compatibility Is it these broken clocks?. or it it me? Tho like clockwork i will realize that there is no love only a desire that will eventually fade A desire to be caressed a desire to be held We’ll realize that infatuation tricked us, we fell subject to its lies and that we’ll both need help Like clockwork our day will soon end For it is only 1 and yet infatuation prevails And Like broken clocks the pattern of acknowledging our “love” is only hope will Leave us frail Tho for now we’ll watch the ticking clocks well study their patterns and hope for something New Tho we both know there’s consistency within the ticking we both know this is clockwork We both know this is the truth