Time Is... Poem by DM W
Time Is...
Rating: ★5.0
Time is disease ridden.
Its nerves are frayed,
And its veins stick out.
It's old blood and bones limp along
Endless, forsaken paths
Of wintry solitude.
Wednesday, July 8, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: time
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5/16/2024 6:54:55 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Nicely written and beautifully presented an if memory serves me well and have to ask you did your Time's Nerves Are Frayed springboard and become a catalyst for this poem. If so, I too see triggers and inroads to other poems from a word, line, title and a phrase on what a writer has just been written and then rereads in quite and focused solitude. 10++ and thank you Dominic for sharing. Take care good sir and stay Blessed.