deepundergroundpoetry.com
Trick Tock
We perambulate
straight into the grave
we search for fate
to find the correct way
the early bird's
now late
he waits in yesterday
as the Hawk frustrates
about missing his gone prey .
Eyes can be vocal
they speak behind the gaze
expressional , emotion
a lifetime in a day
I look back
though it's over
like each second is to date
each tomorrow gets older
in a forecast
that passed
away.
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