To Her First Love

If we had world enough, and time,

we'd ditch this town and get lost

in this beautifully dangerous realm.

The beaches and woods do not overwhelm,

and enters the chance to explore.

This space, my king, needs no trouble.

 

But at my back, a rope pulls

screaming of university and practice.

I counted a three missing task mess

late last night, triggering crippling stress.

Is it possible to lose your way in search of time?

The weight of the old clock impending.

 

Instead, burn the mumbling chore

of pay and nearing restless hour,

come, let us wander,

our memories shall we squander,

without you, adventure is just losing my way,

for our ticking hearts overpower ticking clocks.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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