Before I get into today’s post, I wanted to say something really quick about why I decided to share this with you. I realised that all of the poems I share with you are current poems and that I have not shown you anything from years ago. One day I might show you something from when I first started to write like when I was twelve or thirteen, but all I have for you today is from 2015 so not really that old, just a sweet sixteen. I do think though that I can still see a huge difference in my writing and though that may be hard for you to pick up on, perhaps as I share more of my writing from when I was younger, over time it will become more evident.Hope you enjoy this throwback poem, and if you do and want to see more old poetry let me know.:)
This Clock
This world is a clock.
It goes tick,
it murmurs tock.
What we are given
is all that we got.
Soon it becomes
that who we were once
is so easily forgot.
As it rotates and turns
our old memories burn
— We wish away time
for a more elegant rthme
But who was the one
to play in the sun,
to live and to love,
to laugh and to cry,
to dance and to skip,
to jump and to run.
Throw in a coin,
wish on a star
but you get what you get:
You are who you are.
Wish away today.
Wish away tomorrow.
Wish away your life,
live for the sorrow.
You only live once
so live each moment
like it is your last
because you can’t go back
and what is past is past.
Can’t turn back the hands
of the wooden tick-tock,
just stuck in the winding of this clock.
-Eva M.M.
Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts with me below.
” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.”
