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The Clock

Time that never ends

Ticking, beating out a rhythm

That endless noise they say is silence

My ears bleed, my mind screams

Trying to remember

The clock has blood on its hands

I am outside looking in

I hear bones breaking, flesh yielding

I cannot write such dark passages

Of a love gone bad

The look of peace on her face

Happy to be gone from this life

That look haunts me

Did love, mercy guide my hand in this?

Did I take the life I love so well?

The sickness changed the one I knew

The shell left behind

No longer holds the love

That held me to her

That ticking clock has beat its last rhythm

As I lay down beside her

I hear the ticking clock no more…

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Comments

7 responses to “The Clock… #Poetry”

  1. Powerful work, Anita.

    1. Thank you, Jacquie…

  2. An excellent poem, Anita.

    1. Thanks, Roberta…

  3. […] via The Clock… #Poetry — anita dawes and jaye marie […]

  4. moving and dark. Beautifully penned! <3

    1. Thanks, Penny…

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