Tuesday, 4 September 2012

Clockwork Childhood

I watched minds age -
Idyll, to idle.
Faces,
Like clocks ticking.

Weary eyes,
With -
Furrowed brows,
Furnished by time.

Trying to embrace the ghost
Of infancy, instead -
Grasping for the glass
That cynicism poured for -

Milky innocence.

With -
Cheap whiskey,
That -
Tastes a touch too cheap.


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