Abecedarian Poem

April 3, 2011
Always on time
But behind the hands of the
Clock; you never
Did like that pressure,
Except in the
Freezing months that always seemed to
Go by too fast and never
Had reason for their departure.
I always missed you the most in
July with the sunset like a
Kaleidoscope over the
Lonely mountains. You
Might
Never hear what I have gone through
Over this, all this metronomic
Pain
Quieter now,
Rhythmic tears and smiles
Sing because it’s supposed to make sense
This poem is for the music that made us
Understand and hear the echo of that
Vacancy you can’t replace, you
Wouldn’t replace
X’s and O’s and all those stupid things
You made seem so important on your journey back to
Zero hour, always on time, always on time.





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