My mind runs on a clock,
And I never have time to think,
And time keeps moving,
Like a train without brakes,
Slow through night,
And zipping through day,
My heart's felt better,
Lest I jinx it,
But my mind won't function
Like it used to.
Every day is a learning experience,
And all I want to do is sit back,
And watch the stars,
And feel the warm air around me,
And feel the dry sand on my feet,
And feel the cool water against my hands,
And feel the fire blazing in my veins and in my heart.
I want to show these elements to the world,
How I'm really a master of the elements on the inside,
A force to be reckoned with,
But time is my master.
Time prevents me from showing what needs to be shown.
Yet I've barely lived,
And I don't fully understand the way this world works,
And possibly never will.
But as long as the sun beats down on me,
And my heart beats in my chest,
The compass that I am will keep spinning,
The direction of my life never ceasing to spin,
Because life surprises us.
And the mysteries of the human condition will remain mysterious,
Long after you or I become one with the elements,
As we were at the time of our birth,
Wishing to settle upon a world where we could be understood,
Yet we live our lives and we become one with the Universe,
As we always have been,
Always will be,
And never knowing why.
So what am I really trying to say?
I can't tell you,
Because I don't even know myself,
And never will.
It was the Heat of the Moment.
The Door to Heaven
I'm Yours Chapter 2
LOL, yes! Like penpals
I think really I met/encountered/found you first, but same thing
I really appreciate the compliment though. I guess I can be my biggest critic, but I've always wrote and felt there was something missing from each poem, but if people geniunely appreciate my writing, that's what makes me keep going, as well as just wanting a form of expressing myself. Thank you kindly <3
That means a lot to me, thank you very much!
I always seem to write about time and exactly that metaphor: "dripping through your fingers," like sand in an hourglass.
I guess you could say there's pressure making me crack, lol.
Hmm, time's a matter you're thinking much about then. Sometimes, I fear time, but then I wonder if time's really the problem, after all ... Maybe, maybe not. Oh, and it's a very good metaphor!
You're right - When I was writing this, I was thinking of my other poem, "This World." Ever since reading "Green Lantern: Blackest Night," I've been finding ways to tie my newfound outlook on emotions with my poems.