Alarm clock

A morning sound pierce my ears
I adjust my position in the arms
Of oblivion, stay.

A lonely device sits neglected
On a dusty table screaming in
Unfinished dream.

A sound pierce the veils of peace
A turning in events leaves being
Asunder to be.

An alarm clock gives you the time
To hate, little to ponder
Stay, cry, time, goodbye.

June 5, 2018

About alaindesade

Novelist, songwriter and philosopher. Has special interest in human relations, evolution of mind, inter-cultural complications, and the concept of God.
This entry was posted in c’est la vie, Poetry, Reflections and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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