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Time

by Greg Compton 4 years ago in sad poetry

Death

In time everything rots and rusts

crumbles into dust

You reach for another month

and come up empty

Coming to terms

with days to weeks

Hours and minutes

Forget what they are

and bicker over who lasts longest

As the seconds get caught in the middle

With nowhere to run

Time caves in on itself

No longer the relentless force

Bullying you into the next day

Driving you into the next week

the next year

Time loses its power over your life

As it begins to end

With peculiar moments

Open mouthed

Your eyes unblinking,

unquenchable

Locked on a corner of the ceiling

A portal into a timeless place

Where all that was lost shall be found.

sad poetry

Greg Compton

Read next: Bleeding Shadows

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