Day Twelve

We like poetry, yes we do. I like poetry, how about you?

I’m clever right? Well I wrote this little poem on the twelfth of January, and to be honest it has nothing to do with said date but I like the idea of naming it that so here it is 😀

Short days, shorter weeks.

Moments feel like hours. But hours like

Minutes, pass by.

Don’t forget to count them.

Day to day. Week to week. Month becomes year . . .

Who are you now?

Do you remember when

Will it all slow down . .

Time will stand still and time will fly

By now you must know,


Where are you now?

Travelers weary for home. At home, weary for travel.

One day here, two more gone.

They blur together, they stand

Out-casted are those who refuse to

Remain still

In one place too restless to stay, too fearful to leave.

The clock strikes twelve.

What do you think? Poetry is an odd thing, isn’t it? Have you ever written any? I want to see!

-that one girl


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