Clock

The clock screams the seconds awayBanging its displeased self at beingPresent in a room where no soundKeeps it company, all the noise isDarting around in the hallway,Food carts roll around ok linoleumNurses chatter happily about workAnd their life outside the hospital

The clock bangs, sometimes soundingLike it skips a beat, metal urges metal toFill my room with sound coming from myTemporary four walls, dressed in thePalest, ugliest of blue and yellowTea cups rattle, announcing warmthTo warm bones that rattle along withThe rhythm the clock forces on the room

Outside birds play in the tre, undisturbedBy the rhythm of time, the bounce ofPassing seconds on my beautiful dayA soft hiss of draft rushes over my faceAnd for one moment I am as coldAs the metal that drums in the heartOf the clock that fills my life, my brainMy poetry with the sound of life itself

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *