Paces Poem by Neil Kennett

Paces



You run,
To the ends of the earth and back,
Your mind reacts,
Your heart beats faster,
Cars race past
Like the long lost undead,
At last your fists clench,
Force past the door
And fall to bed.

Many paces
Leave no trace
But a print beneath,
Time chases down
And erases all
But the air we breathe.

You awake, in time
To see a glazed reality,
Blissful insanity,
A sugar-coated pill
And water
Re-introduce you to yourself,
Your curtains stroke the windowsill,
Light invades the shelf,
It brings realisation
Shown in frantic preparation
Like brake-lines cut,
A scrambling of hands,
Then the door firmly shut

Many paces
Leave no trace
But a print beneath,
Time chases down
And erases all
But the air we breathe.

You live
Like a damaged clock,
A stuttering routine.
You walk,
You sprint-
And stop.
Each minute has a space between.

So
Let us live
And let us die,
Let us forgive, forget
And let us fall
For we know that
Time will outlive us all.

Tuesday, September 2, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: time
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Neil Kennett

Neil Kennett

Colchester
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