Killing Time

2 Comments

Tags:
  • Art

    Killing Time

    When did you start?
    What makes you so special that I not only have to keep track of you but I have to constantly work with you,
    Why is it that it's bad to have to much of you,
    Obviously you don't like the idea of me doing what I want with you,
    I hate being late but what am I supposed to do,
    Just blame it on my race,
    Call it C.P. You,
    How is it that we all are a slave to you,
    From the day that we start to tick away to you,
    Till the end when we simply run out of you,
    "Time is On My side"
    So I run faster rush just to get away from you for a bit,
    But you catch up to me and pass,
    Now I'm stuck in the dust wondering where you went,
    While you look back and watch,
    With your stop watch,
    And your wrist watch,
    Your annoying alarms, making me coo coo
    I just want to punch clocks,
    Right in the cyclops eye of the hour,
    Then I'll break that minute hand,
    And make the second one bow to my power,
    Devour the cogs and swallow the gears,
    Make you stop before you stop me,
    Die, Die, Die,
    I can never get what you took from me back,
    Two many years, so many tears, It's only fair that you,
    Die, Die, Die,
    Stop what you are doing it will all be fine,
    Freeze in the moment,
    When I,
    Kill,
    Time.

    Poem Comments

    (2)

    Please login or register

    You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
    leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

    Login or Register

    Niecy commented on Killing Time

    04-03-2009

    Please know that I did not rate & for the most part will not! See, the feathers lie! Had I rated, I would have given a '9' Good Job!

    Niecy commented on Killing Time

    04-02-2009

    I actually get lost with work like this! I start to read & choice words take me on a ride a trip you know a zone that leaves me far gone! Excellent!

    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

    Unknown Source

    Silent1’s Poems (10)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Light show 0
    To Fall (new masocist) 0
    Incarceration (love) 0
    Hip Hop Poem 2
    Masochist 3
    FEAR (intro) 0
    Killing Time 2
    Artistic View 3
    Hip Hop 6
    Shattered 7