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untitled - Poetry Group

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The clock on the wall
sounds out a consistent beat
a never-ending ticking
as relentless as the heat

A wooden clog disguised as a boat
it's sails stained with blood
the boat shall never touch water
nor will the shoe touch mud

Yellow flowers on the sheets
speak of stories still untold
the memories contained within these walls
are so fragile and so old

a tiny jungle in the corner
is the only thing alive
yearning to break free
yearning to take the dive

into the world that awaits
beyond these crumbling walls
behind my eyes my thoughts swirl
and into darkness emotion falls


Heather: I like the flow of the poem. It reminds me of my self when I was young. Not being able maybe to do things I had to get done or maybe your life is going in circles and nothing is being done. Then when night falls you feel kinda down because maybe you did not accomplish things you should have done. I like the way you express it. Tell me what you were thinking when you wrote it.


I was feeling trapped both physically and emotionally, maybe mentally too. Thank you for the compliments.


yea it sounded like it. I really like how you used the clock and the way you expressed your self in what you saw around yu and let us feel it.
I did that alot when I was younger and you know I threw all those poems out when I was about 34. and now I write poems about the world around me and also some personal experiences and some answers I have found at the end of the poems. I phyliosophy more now.

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