Not a sound
But the sound of the clock
It says three
But there’s no sleep
Not anywhere around me
Thoughts, if that is what they are called
They engulf me like a snowstorm
And then they bid adieu
Leaving the mind
As blank as a whipped blackboard
A tear might have dropped
But the cold freezes it in the eye
And then there is cackling laughter
For after all it is a day so bright
Well at least on the outside.
2 comments:
Nice :)
PS:Cackling laughter reminded me of Voldemort in Harry's dreams. Scary :-s
I like the poem :) And the title goes very well with the poem.And a nice ending.
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