The silly minutes
rage by like a
falling cuckoo clock.
Dilapidated dreams are
bent and burnt like
autumn leaves.
Fuck the cliches.
Time hurts, like a
gaping wound.
Hold it close, and
value every precious
second.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 13th, 2025 19:31
- Comment from author about the poem: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aMbrfKP2H38 Here is a link to my YouTube channel where I read from my latest books, Sleep Always Calls, Seedy Town Blues, and It's Just a Hop, Skip, and a Jump to the Madhouse. They are all available on Amazon. The latest video is of a reading I did at the Clear Lake Public Library.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 111
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, Teddy.15
Offline)
Comments7
This poem is so sad and deeply open.
The imagery cuts deep, and every line feels like it’s laid bare for us to feel.
Beautifully written.
Thank you.
'Time hurts'- sometimes, yes.
ty, Dave.
The poem is so sad...but I am happy the title was...well...not referring to your going away! Whew! 😅 Loved it Thomas!
Thank you, so much.
Gems of truth here Thomas. As time passes comes the recognition that certain dreams will never be fulfilled for they have expiration dates that have passed. Nicely written Thomas
So true. Thanks.
Most welcome
Absolutely 🌹
Thank you.
I have for the longest been of the opinion that the old hat about time healing all hurt is naive rubbish. After long enough you just get used to it.
Very true. Thanks.
A powerful write, Thomas. Cracking imagery.
I appreciate you.
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