Sunday, April 10, 2011 | By: Chim's World of Literature

4:20PM

Its 4:20PM I am sitting here alone,
Memories is whirling inside my mind,
I have tried to bury them deep down
Under the covers yet it shoot like bullets back into gear.

Its 4:20PM on another Sunday afternoon hoping for once not to have you back.
Do I ever cross your mind,
Do you ever think of me,
The days we would talk endlessly.

Its 4:20PM another day almost gone
Storms has settled yet I've never heard back from you.
Its been almost nearly a year last.
I thought this time you would miss me,
I guess its time to stop the clock from getting to another 4:20PM.



This is day 9 of Poetry Month entry from Poetic Asides prompt: Time...

My entry for this weeks Poetry Potluck week 29, i havent come up with a theme poem....

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Very good, I like the sense of loss and longing here. The use the exact time makes it very focused.

http://jessicasjapes.wordpress.com/2011/04/11/evolution-in-a-nutshell/

Anonymous said...

There is a resounding loss within these words.

Anonymous said...

lovely.. mines here~ http://fiveloaf.wordpress.com/2010/06/18/natures-gravity/

Linda Bob Grifins Korbetis Hall said...

time flies,
we end up in repeated circles.
well done,

A++

Olivia said...

Yearning n some sense of loss!
very well writ!

Hugs x

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