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Death Clock
Thoughts push through my mind
I push them back, leaving them behind
These thoughts are true but morbid
I try so very hard not to be reminded
Sitting in grey chairs, surrounded by people
The man on the stage preaches of an apple
I know the stories, I know their meaning
Whatever the story, they always lead back to that one thought I’ve been dreading
The thought, the truth, the bible, the future
My mind immediately paints the picture
It’s so clear
But so is the tear
I think of Him and anger burns inside me
Then I think of him, and a smile grows happily
These feelings are wrong
But they are strong
I cannot help what is happening
I can only sit and watch, as if it was entertaining
I second guess everything I want to do
The truth that pulls me back grew
he asks me why but I can’t bring myself to say
For it’s just too horrible and will ruin the day
Every day passes and leaves a feeling of wasted time
The death clock has no hands, any minute it could chime
Wednesday nights I cry
Sundays I want to die
The black sky is covered with stars
I’m alone, staring at my scars
Cold breezes touch my skin
Everything is quiet, except for my screaming sin
The truth isn’t just a thought anymore
Inside my head it’s like a war
Neither side will stop till the other is dead
But what do I do when no blood is shed?
The prayer that has been prayed over three hundred times hasn’t been answered yet
Which means this fate might not be met
But the chances are halved
The beloved could fall
All I will be able to do is sit back and recall
God, please, I don’t know how to fix this
Help before the death clock’s chime assists
End
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