Read Poem: When The Clock Strikes Death, by C.M. Rivers

Years ramble on along a narrow highway
while daffodils peak in their bright yellow prime
and I scratch at the walls of the hourglass
from which I attempt to climb.

This life was a wet shiny bubble
blown by a child whom I never knew,
who’s heart was as wild as pictures
I colored with crayons before I met you.

Now hard blow the northern winds
and heavy fall the western rains,
and the rocks and sand have barely changed,
yet I have not remained the same
while the clock struck the hours before death came.

C.M. Rivers

About poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film.
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