The Hands of My Clock Spin Far Too Fast: A Poem

Hi there! Please enjoy this evening’s poem. I’m slightly annoyed with myself that it’s the wrong side of midnight, but the time just seemed to disappear…

Please leave a comment with any feedback you might have, and don’t be afraid to be critical! I really want to improve my writing, so that always helps. Thanks!

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Where do the seconds go?

The spaces between the moments

That fade away like smoke; where

Do the minutes hide, that my days

Are never as long as it seems they should be,

Where is time running to?

After it passes me by, where then

Do the hours lie – wasted on the scrap-heap of my life,

Or rushing ever on, filled with every

Word I gave to them, every deed

Conveyed by them, do they fill

Like the bottom of an hourglass

With the grain of every fraction of my life,

Then just

Drift on?

Where does the time go, and,

Why

Does it forsake me so?


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