Poem -

Tick-Tock

That artificial tempo

Of the clocks we all carry

Obscuring natural procession

Different times should be varied

Yet they now are perpetual

And never counted fairly

​​​Wrong are the thoughts

That trick and mockΒ 

First the tick then the tock

To stop walking forward

Is to wither away

For to stand still

Is to take root in radioactive soilΒ 

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Comments

author
RRG (Rebecca)

Yes, yes, yes.... Man I so relate to this Garrett. (pinned) Stagnation is death, but we all feel it at some point. Moments of pause and reflection, or deep depression, but to get stuck and lose our way, and not realize that WE are truly the obstacle...Β Just love this. :)

Blessings, Rebecca

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