The dwelling of a thoughtless teenager

Monday, January 30, 2006

Leah's poetry corner

Since posting lyrics and the like is so en vogue, I decided to post an old poem of mine that Caboose will remember, it's my favorite.

The Clock

The clock’s incessant ticking beat,
Like the heart within my chest,
Moved with rays of Apollo’s heat
Took a thousand lives in a breath.
Like a vast merciless metronome
It hurried all along their way--
Hastened all from childhood’s home.
Crossing Night and Dusk and Day.

Brought a mountain to knees of sand;
Birth to death was cruelly spurred.
For Time’s wrinkled prodding hands
Irked my spirit as they urged-

Me first from youth and then my prime,
They made me old before my time.

And then the chimes of late hour sang,
Tolling seasons, sickness, strife--
To newborn the sound sweetly rang.
But every strike stole moments of my life.
I, tormented, hurled a stone unto the clock.
But, as I bent o’re the twisted shards,
And saw the hands paralysis-locked,
I conceived that my proverbial cards
Were laid before me bare
While Time’s orbit endured unbroken.
I cried out in despair,
For—
The Clock had been a simple token.




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