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The deep clunking of the grandfather clock lulls me into a hypnotic state of mind
A desperate moaning retches at my relaxed consciousness, and I am struck
The malicious nature of mankind overcomes me and suddenly I start to weep
Love is but a figment of the imagination, yet I weep for him, the man that never was.
The grandfather clockâs consistent ticking, the rhythmic clunking, stops.
And the last tear I ever shed breaks me free of this world.
- Title: An emo poem
- Artist: Pikajane
- Description: I choose not to give this a formal title as this is not a formal work. About 2 minutes ago, I had a strong urge to write, so I pulled up Word and I started typing. I didn't think about what I was typing, whether it made sense, and I had no planning. I did not want rhetorical and literary devices screwing up whatever I had in my mind so I didn't aim for rhyming. I am not emo, and I have no idea who I am talking about in this. I just typed the first thing that came to my mind.
- Date: 12/21/2008
- Tags: figmentation grandfatherclock emopoem clock
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Comments (4 Comments)
- poisonbananas - 07/12/2010
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Very deep, wonderful =)
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- BatzLove - 07/23/2009
- nice.
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- Xxdeath_demon_rinxX - 01/17/2009
- wow. i agree. very nice jo.
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- Isis4563 - 12/22/2008
- The fourth line reminds me of Edgar Allen Poe. There is total excess of angsty, emo poems on this site, but this isn't like the others. It's original. I like that you include a grandfather clock in the poem. Nice job. smile
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