www.whyville.net Mar 2, 2009 Weekly Issue



Wicked777
Whyville Poet

Tourniquet

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FRONT PAGE
CREATIVE WRITING
SCIENCE
HOT TOPICS
POLITICS
HEALTH
PANDEMIC
My every breath is numbered
My every step so encumbered
My mistakes are far from haunting
My future is quite daunting.

Watching their hearts tremble
Seeing the procession assemble
Tears sliding down their blotchy cheeks
Everybody listens, but nobody speaks.

And every breath comes slower
And every step goes lower
And mistakes were truly a gift
And I'm lucky to make this shift.

Watching their hearts shatter and bleed
Seeing the procession abandon their creed
Cold metal, shining floors, reflecting frozen faces
Emotion in everyone is found in only traces.

Now every breath is a memory
Now every step doesn't belong to me
Now mistakes matter as much as life does
Now my future is in what my past was.

Now the past will be in what my future was.

 

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