Clock drags on unreal anyway
In spite and to spite all shape and form
And bitter semblance proof
Solid concrete reality
Unreal never the less
For all it’s ticking and wheels spinning
These things they turn until they bend you
They spin your dreams away
Leaves fall to the ground
The flowers blossom
Children grow grey
And still these clock wheels
They are always turning
Until at last all springs end
And these frail mortal coils
Untether their touch on humanity
And in the darkness- unbend
And in the darkness- straighten again
seekingstories 