Our lives are like a clock whether it's like the watch on your wrist or a colossal one on a tower and such...but they still work the same way.
The hands slowly tick by; every second is a minute; every minute is an hour; every hour is a day of your life passing by.
My life seems attached ,no, intertwined with time and the hands of my clock tick ever so slowly, it seemed to be longer,no, feels longer than anyone else's.
I seemed to feel somewhat anxious to reach the black void called Death. But my life moves too slowly and I worry I'll never reach it.
The locket given to me, a silver round locket held by a chain around my neck holds my clock, my time, and my curse...
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.05 seconds at 4:09am on Nov 17, 2024 via server WEBX1.