The clock shows the hour of a past life tragedy
Others laugh like it's a freakin comedy
Sad faces leave the impression...
that something's just have to be.
The grand father clock rings
This moment brings
Intensity masked by insecurity
Looking around a once blessed filled home
Where the things within...
was once new and fresh,
are now broken and torn… there's death.
Death to a family, hopes, wishes and dreams
Tears fill the hallway, like a murder scene
The neighbors heard the screams
From an instill image witnessed
By the woman and children that plead,
for your life to keep.
Feeling your heart pound
Emptiness filled a weaken smile
eyes darken with no define
How do you end a cycle that interrupts,
the rhythm of life that was once built with trust.
Now has you sadden...
by a reality taken from a dream.
You've taken my sanity
Forever corrupting my memories
The grand father clock rings
It stopped at the hour of a past life tragedy,
that was once mine to repeat;
The man was the one to weep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem