Browse By

Tag Archives: time

lips are sealed mute poetry by scottshak

Mute

What’s wrong if I spill myself out? I die tomorrow, don’t you know? Maybe you have all the time in the world, Maybe I am running out, And you have no idea how, But each passing breath is a goodbye From this cold world. And

Hands on my clock

Hands on My Clock

I am slaving away, Paving a way, For someone I wouldn’t recognize, When I am no longer left. These bits that make me Aren’t for a future I feel, But to sate my obstinacy, For everything I am about Is to become everyone, In one

Defiance poetry wallpaper of a roaring lion

Defiant

You did not get me, You do not get me, That’s how it is. I am a riddle To your hunt, And I sit here with answers To questions I am yet to face, With a confidence you can’t efface. I will pay you, If

dawn of the living poem

Dawn of the Living

Waking up in your time, I am the night! I see what calls you – A light from the sky, And you walk out like moths To a brimming sunshine; All that glare hides promises Of a bright future That you could make In your

mirrors poem by scottshak

Mirrors

I feel nothing, nada, When I browse through all the faces in my time. Sunny ones, smiling kinds, contented minds, Adventures hide inside their green eyes. People are strangers without their thin masks; They wear them to pose a split second sign To create an idea

our time wallpaper teddy

Our Time

You are thinking about my world In your world, I am a dream You can wipe out With a mere thought Spent on someone else. I will be gone in your momentary disregard For the better part of the day, But it doesn’t work that

image of a noose as a tie

That Place You Visit Everyday

Walls are closing in, Everyday I am here I smother myself a little, Yet I shoehorn myself in Into the world’s most hated place; When you are not in love, Everything turns into distaste. Aren’t we checking into a stockade Of chasm to find our

Kids running in a field image for utopia

Utopia

When you are loved for every breath you make, Praised for every step you take, When you ask you get your own realm of space, When you walk and you reach a place, When you talk and they lose the presence around, When you are

image for missed deadlines in my head

Deadlines in My Head

Every second I am out of it. I feel like I am running out of time. That cliched image of me clinching sand as it slides past my palm paints the canvas in my head. I have created these little deadlines unknowingly, and I have

fading time clockpunchers of IT

Clock Punchers of IT

They would rise in unison, walk around like ghosts and would fall into their chairs as if controlled by a remote. Their big hopeless eyes would stoop with them in their dullness. Their bleak lashes would then flap occasionally to reveal more dead inside –