The clock keeps ticking,
Just like my heart.
And I keep kicking,
Desperately wishing to depart.
The hand keeps moving,
Just like my own.
And I keep musing,
Hopelessly clinging to the phone.
Waiting for him to call
As I rest against this chipping wall
Pondering my memories of him.
The light inside me going dim.
The midnight clock chimes,
Beginning another day.
Trapped in my confines,
Wishing today was my last day.
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Bathe in Color
RomanceParis Wills is a dreamer. His father always said he got it from his mom, an artist who was unlike any other. Her virtue was painting, and Paris' is poetry. No matter where he is, Paris finds inspiration for his poems. In the summer after his soph...
