An Image of a Shattering Clock
What's hopeless is a lie
when what the heart defies
is everything along the way
What's hopeless is a lie
when you try to stay alive
when all you want to do is die away
There are fingers scraping glass
somewhere down the hall
We're just the hands on the clock on the wall
What love has done to me and you
What it drives some men to do
What love is done
when impossible
is just a thing to love you through?
The glass is slowly breaking
and the clock's about to fall
We're just the hands on the clock on the wall
And all along my hand
is the blood I've bled for you,
as you'll never understand
what I've put me through
And while pounding on the glass,
all I'm trying to do
is stop the clock from ticking
me away from you
But my heart has stopped its beating
somewhere down the hall
We're just the hands on the clock on the wall
What it is that drives me
to keep doing what I do-
It isn't me at all
to keep on leaving you
I wish time would stop
or quickly bring me back to you,
but such is time to never fly
when you want it to
I once held your hand
but now I hold you not at all
We're just the hands on the clock on the wall
Tormented chimes an engine grind
as the minute hand rewinds
Hours are ours as there are things
you can never leave behind
Time is time but never mind
with your hand now holding mine
Sometimes my hands weren't long enough
but I loved you all the time
But now we're together
as the broken clock now starts to fall
We're just the hands on the clock on the wall
For Bronwyn
The two hands only align 24 times in a day
Other Bronwyn Poems:
Those Asylum Doors
All I Need is a Little Light
Perhaps Never Apart