Clockworks
We are like gears,
In a churning machine.
When you spin,
I spin.
When I spin,
They spin.
Impelled by our interconnected intricacies.
Can my wheel just break away
Another gear will take my place
In my loneliness,
In this grand machine,
I find a place and spin again.
Spinning back............perhaps,
Surely forward again.
I need my gears to spin my time,
To grind my purpose disguised.
What is the workings of this grand machine
Let the watchmaker surmise,
As I move my gear with time.
Copyright © Ashley Caldwell | Year Posted 2009
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment