..
hold your own breath one tick, one tock;
find yourself here.
ask the sky why
she looses blue.
kick the door open; break the lock.
this symphony
has its own sting –
we’re living proof.
as seconds pass, our firsts are gone.
follow them down
these shallow halls
and face the truth.
..
prompted by Quickly.
Lovely!
>
I love Shallow Hal. 🙂
That last stanza is a stunner. So true. And I do not want to know why about the sky being blue. I am quite sure there is a scientific reason for it – that it is not really blue at all, but we just see it as blue.
Of course you know I love the title. Funny how slow the minutes seem to go… but the years just dash on by.
This had me read a few times…depth and meaning…time ticks on and what do we do what do we ask…love this poem, de.
As you get old, there aren’t many firsts left and those remaining are not appealing! I really like this poem – it’s deeper than it looks.