(C)locked

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We know. 

We know that this could end...

In this moment,

or the next. 

And we feel it. 

That push.

Or pull.

And the inner

decay...

but worry about

the lines on our face,

and the green in our banks...

The rings on our fingers, 

and the roof over rooms

where we hide from our truth...

I...

see...

you...

You...

take...

the keys...

And tell 

me 

to leave...


Created: May 18, 2017

Tags: clock, clocked, lock, locked, poem, poetry, moment, end, death, feel, push, pull, tug, decay, wrinkle, wrinkles, lines, face, bank, green, money, ring, finger, roof, room, house, truth, hide, key, leave, see

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