Poetplayhouse

Wake up and smell the coffee

November 15, 2010

My eyes fell asleep as I looked down

Lids drooping in a lazy bound

My ears seemed to wither

As  each word crawled its way in and out

 

My breath grew heavier by the minute

As I waited for the clock to run as fast as a snail

My cheeks involuntarily drooped

As my bright smile slowly turned into a frown

 

My brows reached for the skies

Desperately fighting off a seemingly inevitable prying

My brain is in a state of shock

It froze and unable to react, what will awaken my dying conscious?

Coffee sounds good, see you at 8 o’clock…

Posted by poetplayhouse at 6:50 pm | permalink | Add comment

Untitled I

Time, the one sneaky bastard that gets away with anything

 Creeping in no hurry

Withstaning every weather, every situation, stubborn and persistent

Thorn on everyone’s side might I insist

 

An eternal watchful eye

Hovering freely as the winds

Ebbbing away like the tide

An endless echo of conscience, guilt and pride

Time waits for no one

Not for you or I

Time…the bastard of us all…

Posted by poetplayhouse at 6:08 pm | permalink | Add comment