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Tick Tock

Tick Tock

Late night ramblings of a lost soul craving the intimacy of youth.
Tick tock goes the clock,
another night drags on.
Your chest moves slowly
in quiet slumber.
The night is peaceful,
but not for me.

It's been another frantic day
and all the noises have been seen to.
Noises can warn of danger
but in the triage of life
it’s the quiet and still who represent the greatest pain of all.

Time is spent reflecting.
Days gone by bring great joy,
days of passion and love,
where two became one.

The squeaking chair at Lake Louise,
the moment of bliss at Chateau Laurier,
a briefest moment of joy in Paradise.

Those days seem so long ago now.
It hurts now to think back to what we once had.
To what is now past.

The longing is still there, more so than ever I guess.
Must sleep now.
Put the longing back in the box.
But the box is full and nothing more can be added.
Must get up and make some room.

It’s the only way to let sleep through the door.

It does the job. It does the trick.
But at what cost?
Feelings of loneliness, cheap and dirty.

Love can't last on memories alone.
Ships that pass in the night ultimately will be lost.
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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