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Broken Clock

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I can’t live like this anymore.
Spinning ‘round and ‘round
Like the hands on a broken clock.
You need to tell me how.
What’s the one thing that I must do
To finally proclaim my love?
I can’t move mountains
And I can’t wrangle the moon.
I could try to count the stars, I guess
But what good would that do?
I most certainly can’t compete with last words…
So what’s left for me?
A beautiful melody flowing from the strings on my guitar,
Perhaps?
Or maybe whisking you off your feet and into a beautiful dance would do.
A dance under the night sky,
What a wonderful thought.
Spinning ‘round and ‘round
Like the hands on our broken clock.



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Indiewriter This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jul. 30, 2011 at 3:47 pm

(= You're really talented.

p.s- check out my stuff too.

 
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