Tic toc thin as air. <br />With so little of words how do we compare. <br />Voices in our head. <br />A short little shelf life then its dead. <br />Reproduction of the flawless. <br />The black crows music setting the tone. <br />Going caw, caw. <br />Going caw, caw. <br />Mono in a single ear. <br />Just listen to colors vibration. <br />Waves traveling great distance. <br />Could it really be possible. <br />On outside the window looking in. <br />Wanting so bad to be single part of it. <br />Ingesting, and digesting. <br />With bounds and leaps will we ever reach the fullness of understanding? <br />Deprived of all eloquence. <br />How can we dance in the pouring rain, if we never learned how? <br />Painting a whole life a single stroke at a time. <br />All the while knowing not single rhythm or rhyme. <br />All the more hating all this black and white. <br />Leave me not empty nor happy. <br />A satisfied heart abandon for that which not known. <br />Nothing more powerful then whispers all on there own. <br />Fitting into dream bigger then me. <br />Trying to explain a catastrophe with the writings on my wall. <br />Just another scribble of imperfection. <br />Guess the hype was just not good enough. <br />Even upon the view of this great blue bay. <br />Sitting ones life away. <br />A prisoner in an invisible cage. <br />The bars are really there. <br />And with escape being so intimate. <br />Let me ask you one last question. <br />Oh can you handle it, oh can you handle it. <br />Drowning in a water fountain that is all dried up. <br />Screaming help me in bitter agony. <br />Frozen in a moment of wishing waking thoughts. <br />And that when this clock will stop.<br /><br />Ace Of Black Hearts<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/when-the-clock-stops/
