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
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