3:41A Poem by Patrick O'BoyleA note on the moment from which my watches beat was muted
I wear this watch upon my wrist,
That needn't tell the time, But hold the moment firm and still, Through sun and moonlight shine. With hands as frozen as her past, Repentant she would twitch, Her timeless slumbers' second wind, A cry without a pitch. But I shall wait until her breath shall find, And from my wrist she will astray, Sparked her core will drum it's tune, And play to yesterdays. I wear this watch upon my wrist, And my heart on my sleeve, As to not forget. © 2015 Patrick O'BoyleAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorPatrick O'BoyleIrelandAboutPatrick O'Boyle 18 Aspiring articulate, aiming and arduously acclaiming the application of alliteration! more..Writing
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