Driven Mad By Time
In this room I am suffocating
the walls, the desks, the floor, the boards
are all a varying shade of cream
—
Twisting the ring around my finger
Maybe it’s what’s closing me off
I pull it off but my breath is still
caught within the depths of me
nothing comes out
—
The reader slurs and reads letters in a monotone
she tries to find emotion in the words but fails
miserably at that
—
Teacher asks an open ended question
we gape at each other, looking for signs of comprehension
someone feigns reflection
—
All I can hear is the tick tock of time grinding slowly past
Away, below it goes.
Happy NaPoWriMo!
– WWC
Super image! I enjoyed your poem. It reminds me of the last class at school before the weekend.
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