Poems and Poetry

The Hour Glass | A Poem by Paul Tristram

This Evening’s sanity is bending
as Midnight once again steals the show.
Unfathomable undercurrents
in the sewers of this grating situation.
Emotional icicles groaning whilst growing,
bursting floorboards and windowpanes
in that little hideaway cottage in your soul.
A chance of escape from this is brutal,
perfectible unreasonable
and almost definitely imaginary.
Don’t look away, there are things to face!
One thing at a time? No, we’ve seen you
counting much better than that.
Time is impartial to treason,
it’s a conveyor belt and nothing more.
Yet, The Hour Glass is always watching,
its granite justice ticks and tocks
as you unsuccessfully try to manipulate
and harmonize the energies and rhythms
which keep you nailed within that box.

Visit Paul at http://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/.

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