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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 19:35:46 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 85335
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => time
[time] => 2005-02-22 18:46:56
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Tick tock, Tick tock, Goes the clock, The clock on our walls. Tolling around in circles. Leading to nowhere or somewhere at all? It runs in circles chasing the big or little hand. Who knows who will win? We know though when it strikes the time, The time to end. What will become of us? We sit watching, listening to every second stroke away. The dwindling time seems so contlessly in our minds, Images potray, voices scream inside. The time comes near, The time we die. So lay at rest. Dont you fret. There in no meaning to stop time, Time as it counts away. Though cant you feel it? The feeling of whithering away? The feeling of your life counting down? [comments] => 2 [counter] => 176 [topic] => 6 [informant] => depressed_poet [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => AngryPoetry )
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