Monday, August 26, 2013

The Crumbling Clock by Paul Tristram

Turned sideways
and glanced at his
disappearing shadow.
Sighed thrice
and regretted some
of childhood.
Only the sharp
and brittle bits
oh, and the ‘ah-ha’ ones.
The negative and positive
were dancing within
his mechanics always.
But there was a screw
loose somewhere
deep inside
from when she wound
him up the very first time
and unhinged a part
of his clockwise soul.
Accidently, of course
yet, all the same
sending him ticking
and spinning through
time until now.
To see a small hole
the shape of a keyhole
within his
disappearing shadow
as he drops

Author bio: 

Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories and sketches published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight, this too may pass, yet.

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