The Clock Upon the Wall
The reality of it all....
The clock upon the wall
Broken, the crystal glass, cracked
Dust covered, and no longer
The turning of its hands
But I remember, I remember
When it was new....
First, placed upon that wall
The wall, walls, curtainless windows
Molding, paint upon their sills
Panes, staring in, thinking of when
The sliding glass door, but
No one lives here, anymore
Still, looking back, looking past
Echoing laughter....
Voices, faces, silhouettes, this silence
The clock upon the wall
The wall, walls, thinking
What yesterday can you hold?
What memory? What moment?
Can you touch the air?
Can you feel it within your hands?
Is it tangible? Can it be held?
It all disappears, the past
An illusion, that no longer exist
Nor, shall it ever again!
Shall it, shall it ever appear?
Then why, do so many spend their time
Throwing away, this day?
This moment, that may be their very last
Breath?
Walking within places, wherein nothing, lives
Except, in their eyes, their minds, their
Life, Time, "Today!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The clock upon the wall....
Copyright © John Rhinem | Year Posted 2008
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