The Heart Of A Machine

It keeps me up at night, the gentle rhythmic reminder.

Silence only worsens the sound.

If I try to run from it, it gets closer.

Black, white, silver and gold, it’s steady rhythm almost haunts me.

Clear, sharp, precise, its sound pierces my soul.

Once, I heard it change; once, I heard it stop.

Was it my choice to follow its rhythm?

 

I’ve heard it chime; I’ve heard it tick, I hear it now.

It is the only thing that keeps us together;

It is the only thing that drives us apart.

Tick. Tock. Is its external sound.

Thump. Thump. Is its eternal resound.

 

It never slows...it stops.

 

This poem is about: 
My country

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741