Wednesday, 5 August 2009

Room 305

The clock no longer moves backwards
The clock no longer stops ticking at all
The clock no longer exists
And we question its previous existence

I no longer think backwards
I no longer stop my sensations’ flow
I no longer exist
Except in the realm of your reality

You no longer dream backwards
You no longer stop denying your brain’s fixation
You no longer exist
Outside the span of both my arms



HE must be a damn lucky guy!! Having almost all your talent revolving around him! I hope he knows about it, and at least appreciate it! Fuck!!! this is pissing me off!

Daniel C. Porder said...

I think the first stanza alone could be an awesome poem in its own right.