This is a poem about a man and his journey into greed, it was supposed to be longer but I never got around to finishing it.
On a day when things were grand and free...
I struck the clock with my hand
And realized it was only half passed three
Nothing odd about that
Nothing strange or misplaced
Just a feeling of remorse in some distance
Space.
What is mine I inquired of the ticking clock
but is said little if anything
actually it said "naught"
I wanted to remark or perhaps
ask amiss... I was being contemplative,
or perhaps a little frank.
But still no response came not even once
not even twice, I gave up when the chance
came for thrice.
Whats mine is mine and no one else, I'll take
it all even my old self.
No I care not what you think or even say
Whats mine is mine and you can't
take anything that is mine away.
But how wrong I was, I should have stood
Not long after my heart grew still
It missed a beat or maybe two, it soon
stopped revealing a little to late..
That all I had was never mine, it now was
others or perhaps none at all. I held my breath
or so I kept, for it was my last indignant thought...
I liked the poem. It was supposed to be longer? You really should post more of them, I didn't know you wrote them. xD