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OLDWARRIOR'S POETRY FOLDER
Want perfect poetry? THIS IS NOT THE PLACE. My simple poetry comes from my heart and soul.
BY ONLINE AUTHORS
Chalk Dust & Broomsticks, Chapter 13
Nothing is Right in the school at the moment. Shirley looks for sympathy but finds none.
Waiting room
There is no hurry, no urge to move on from a place where I never lived.
The Crown of Fields
We decided to Damn the Strait of Gibraltar for power and land
Whatever: The Word That Wounds
"Whatever" wounds like a verbal slap, fraying bonds. A personal essay on its damage.
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by Bipes Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · None · #2340077

Hello clockfool.

Sick of present times
Never looking back
Spinning round
Back to square one

Despite the changes
Repetitions prevail
All eyes on the Clock
God of their mortal lives

All eyes on the Clock
Leads you on through the lies

Clockwise, day to night
Clockfool, to your demise
Clocklife, minutes left

Wake up
Today's the Day!
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