Counting the Days
Counting all of your symptoms
Bold and shaded gray
Short and loathing
With one days pay
Sifting through your old treasures
My ransom is sold
You were the first bidder
I count the days
Handsome bullets hide in the chamber
Like a termite it eats away at the structure
Saving moments
Trading memories
Closing doors
Opening windows
Somehow its all left to be
Breathing the air we cannot see
Is there anyone else
That could one day be me
Enslaving what i so wish to free
Bold and shaded gray
Short and loathing
With one days pay
Sifting through your old treasures
My ransom is sold
You were the first bidder
I count the days
Handsome bullets hide in the chamber
Like a termite it eats away at the structure
Saving moments
Trading memories
Closing doors
Opening windows
Somehow its all left to be
Breathing the air we cannot see
Is there anyone else
That could one day be me
Enslaving what i so wish to free
Comments
AUTHORThank you, the idea of opening others imaginations intrigues me. I guess its kind of a hobby of mine. I love to share inspiration.
Amazing , ! You make us think , thats a good thing !......:-}
I'm counting my days too. Thanks for this lovely poem!!
We must treasure each one of the days that are given us on this earth.
- AUTHOR
Yes there is so much more to life than death. I feel so many of us fail to see it everyday. Instead of counting the reasons to die we should cherish the moments we have left to live. Cheers
Thank you for this. I am counting my days... There are things other than death... :-)
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