Time stopped – the grandfather clock stopped ticking.
The world halted, that moment started freezing.
He stood still; his breathing the only motion is a statue world
A film of his memories, playing undisturbed.
He remembered every shadow on her skin,
Every shade her eyes had ever been.
And the way he smiled, when she beamed with thrill,
Or when they kissed and he got chills.
But nothing good would ever last,
In frozen moments, he lives the past.
A time before she walked away,
The instants he thought, forever they’d stay.
Hazy veils tear apart,
The ticking of the grandfather clock again would start.
The moment melts back into the present,
He returns to a time he resents.
He was like a spring butterfly,
Whose wings faded into the grey winter sky.
YOU ARE READING
Little Red Flags
PoetryWoven from the minds tricks, blurred with reality. All the things you wished to understand, thoughts in the form of poetry.
