Andy Brookes

Gold Star - 21,502 Points (11 May 1954 / Macclesfield)

Slipping Through The Doors - Poem by Andy Brookes

Trapped between sliding doors,
the words slip away, we slip away.
away with the fairies.

they say words are slippery,
like fish they fly off the hook.
they slip through the net
with no net gain or daily return
nor many happy returns.

wondering what lies in the spaces,
the things not said.
which seemed important at the time,
hold no importance now.

time of spent days, spent on nothing,
each second a little death;
leading to the main event.
elusive like the fish, time swims away,
heading up stream to spawn.

with not much time left in the purse.
the subtext is lost.
remembering mile stones,
or mill stones, miles of stones.
hard on the feet, which is no feat.
bubbles before the meal,
the main course yet to come.
food for worms, food for thought
a penny for them or the ferry man.

so we clock off, our last breath,
taken off the clock.
and we are sucked in to the void.
or the coruscant light.

Topic(s) of this poem: death


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Poem Submitted: Monday, November 23, 2015



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