Time is chasing me
I can't catch my purpose
Because
I lather quondam memory
The sun sets and rises
No recollection of the golden hour
My nights are days
And
The days become nights
Bliss slipping out of my palms
That sweet clock attacking my thoughts
Dwelling on my adolescent telly
Humming to the aged tunes
My present stuck in the past
Moving forward abandoned me
My surroundings fetching tarnished water
I want my previous petals
My desire is a failed vision
My door caught in gummed mud
My advancement looks prickly
My modernism calls for a serene howl
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryHad a prompt in class about ars poetica, this is my perspective within poetry. Enjoy ❤️ Second poem revolves around hopeless love, a lost belonging. Enjoy 😇
