Hands

Brushing my brow

To understand stress

And keep the line balanced.

Yet when the moment is here

We find new ways to take up time –

Still, nothing really works anymore.

Hand on the clock

One moment and tick –

We study together.

Although in hindsight I knew

That we would run out and break down

With a collapse that would hit me hard.

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Author: Differentdanny

Poetry- writing idiot. Been writing for years so will use this blog to post old and new poems in no particular order.

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