clocks never wake
me, I just don’t sleep
watching the hand trail slowly
round the face
counting those endless seconds minutes hours
clocks never wake
they sleep viscious on the shelf
whispering their cruel dreams
of time passing past passing
and look at me
sitting at the mirror
my hand trailing slowly
round my face
counting those endless seconds minutes hours.
Sarah writes poems 
They are full of cruel dreams, especially the ones they take away. (K)
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