Hope In Time

1 Comments

Hope In Time

waking up from dreams where he can't speak,
holding onto all his dreams, so weak.
this day is just like all the past,
there's nothing left that falls apart quite this fast.

underwhelmed by all these things he sees,
losing his battles against his friend called speed.
he used to laugh and talk all night,
in his sleep,
he would dream the most beautiful things.

she used to kiss herself good night,
tucked in and held together by her dreams at night,
then she found a new friend she called all the time.
social suicide.

taking all of these dreams apart,
mechanics hands never seemed so dark,
deconstruction of these things to feel,
self production.

left away, lost away, lost on all hands of time,
second hand ticks backwards remember that time.
laughing all alone, it's darker than it was last night.
but who knows what tomorrow will bring.
i'll probably still be awake to hear that birds first song.

but proudly presenting this new friend of mine.
hope in time.

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frog commented on Hope In Time

06-25-2009

This poem reminds me of all the nights I stayed up late feeling afraid I would miss something when I already was...not realizing how my behavior affected my family for so long. Ouch. You expressed this realization quite well.

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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