Watches

The digital watch flashes
catching my eye.
A nurse whispers to you ‘it means he’s not blind’.
All the seconds from here to then are taunting the living,
a death’s head moth flies to the light.

Hearing again the beep on the hour
(It means I’m not deaf, you let out a sigh)
All the hours run faster and faster.
If we could catch it, then we’d never die.

That patch on my head?
It means I’m a fighter, a scar
from a battle a long time ago.
You carried me then but I was much lighter
I’d carry you now but where would we go?

Isn’t it funny how we seek
some type of answer
to the ebb, to the flow
that makes up our lives?
Ain’t it funny how digital watches,
lighting the way
means we’re not blind.

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  1. Relationships are so beautifully expressed in your poetry. Wonderful.

    • Embo
    • September 11th, 2016

    This is incredible.

  2. Thank you kindly.

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