The hands crawl around the dial, as time runs out
The years having crept up on me in my final days
In the little time I have left, I wonder at all that has passed
Will I be remembered, as I remember those I have known
Or will memories of me fade, now, as I fade away
Some things are meant to be forgotten, perhaps never really known
Jane Dougherty has introduced me to the cleave poem, in her Poetry Challenge #24. It’s an interesting challenge to write, as the mind needs to be able to follow three lines of thought while composing the lines.
Cleave poem ~ a poem without rhyme, meter or set length. Dividing the poem into left and right sides reveals two separate poems, in addition to the original.