Blurry
Where do I begin?
How can I explain what tears at me within?
I’ll put myself to task
Attempt to answer the questions you ask
Then maybe, just maybe, you’ll know the score
And either open a window, or nail shut the door
I am a clock
The time the world forgot
Tiny gears spinning between my ears
Greased by hope
Interspersed with doubt
Interlaced with fears
I am a puzzle
A cannon without a muzzle
Pieces that do not fit
A challenge to the wit
Curiously strange
Categorically unarranged
Surreal, in touch and feel
Out of order across the border
Delighteningly frighteningly
Wutheringly heighteningly
It was I
I wrote that name in the sky
Copyright © Jeff Martin | Year Posted 2018
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