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Twenty Four Hours
Twenty four hours they say.
A Day will rise-- fall-- rise—fall
Until
our Weary beds we-- Crawl
Conspiracy or none-- I ask
Can a life ever be won?
Tedious to say and a Tale to Chase
All the more so
With the break and the-- welt
Interrupting a timely beat
Can we rid of time's routine?
A forever Spiral-- a Stick
And Spleen.
Stuck in the mud;
Groggy and trodden
Mechanics of a day are best
Forgotten.
However-- My mind will not relieve me
From this continual cross and Arrow
Give us this Day-- Our
Daily bread--
A Perfectionistic
poison that is-- said.
But-- If a Poison kills,
Days simply Paralyze
Until the Warp allows for the Chorus
And the loose chain burns.
Twenty four hours-- in a Day.
The clock strikes Twelve—
The Sky will move
Toward a Day--
Tomorrow;
today; to-never-- an Endeavor--
The Same.
Twenty four hours they say.
A Day will rise-- fall-- rise—fall
Until
our Weary beds we-- Crawl
Conspiracy or none-- I ask
Can a life ever be won?
Tedious to say and a Tale to Chase
All the more so
With the break and the-- welt
Interrupting a timely beat
Can we rid of time's routine?
A forever Spiral-- a Stick
And Spleen.
Stuck in the mud;
Groggy and trodden
Mechanics of a day are best
Forgotten.
However-- My mind will not relieve me
From this continual cross and Arrow
Give us this Day-- Our
Daily bread--
A Perfectionistic
poison that is-- said.
But-- If a Poison kills,
Days simply Paralyze
Until the Warp allows for the Chorus
And the loose chain burns.
Twenty four hours-- in a Day.
The clock strikes Twelve—
The Sky will move
Toward a Day--
Tomorrow;
today; to-never-- an Endeavor--
The Same.
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To me, and I think to many people, a lot of the days in our lives continue on in a kind of monotonous, repetitive routine. I was walking home from school one day, and I thought "wow, I've done this so many times before; yesterday, the day before, and the day before that". It's actually pretty scary that some days are so similar that you can't differentiate them! It inspired me to write this poem which is mostly about repitition, routine and the mysterious little thing we call "time". In this poem, time probably seems quite monstrous, since humans are almost at war with it, but I think it's natural to fear that which opposes, and is unknown to you .
With this in mind, I also wanted to partly address the "mechanics" of time, but the rest is just as much of a mystery to me as it is to anyone else! Either way, i'm certain that oppression from time, and a fear of it is something felt universally, so I hope I was able to present that even a little bit in "Twenty Four Hours".