The Slipperiest Slope
Whether my glass is half-empty or half-full, time can only pour.
i'm slipping, into the future,
seconds turn into seasons
minutes turn into memories
i watch the sand grains fall
who will be there to catch me?
i'm genuinely asking,
it won't be long before the years are gone
but if the hands on the clock were mine,
i'd only have a lot more on my mind
day or night, on the clock or in a dream-
the same eight hours pass
what was once in front of me now lies in my past
my thoughts skip reality,
they won't wait for the present
i can't remember the last,
but i can see them in my rearview
it's all i couldn't believe
and all i only thought i could achieve
so, i'm not really a fan of mirrors
tell me- are knowledge and belief the same thing?
i'm genuinely asking-
because,
what's in my chest, and what's on my mind,
they're not quite the same
will the clock run enough to get them in line?
i'm genuinely asking
half‐full or half‐empty, time can only pour-
how many hours are really left in the glass?
i'm genuinely asking
days of dreams
nights of fears
weeks of war
month by month, memories are written
it won't be long before the years are gone
if continue to slip, into tomorrow,
eventually i will fall into forever
will someone be there to catch me?
i'm genuinely asking
About the Creator
Josh Morgan
I began writing as a means of expressing creativity, relieving stress, and venting emotions. I mention my daily battle with mental health a lot, I hope it is relatable and inspiring to readers, as writing is something I'm passionate about.
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Comments (1)
Another heartfelt piece. I just stumbled upon you. I do like your style.