Thirteen

The clock can’t strike thirteen.

Midnight’s chimes are the last call.

Cinderella hears the tolling and runs

Fleeing

Leaving

The prince on the dance floor

With only a memory

Of a dance with an angel

And a kiss like a whispered goodbye.

 

The clock can’t strike thirteen.

Midnight’s darkness never fades.

Ariel cradles the knife and weeps

Crying

Dying

Willing to break her own heart

If it will spare her prince.

He will never know

How many times she saves him.

 

The clock can’t strike thirteen.

Midnight’s hour is all there is left.

Marie watches mice pour across the carpet

Squeaking

Shrieking

Battle cries against any and all

Who dare oppose them

And the nutcracker’s troops

Are trapped in this forever war.

 

The clock can’t strike thirteen.

Midnight comes, and stays, and

Holding on will change nothing

(nothing.)

In the end

The future is a promise

The past is an echo

And we keep moving,

All of us,

Through time.

 

The clock can’t strike thirteen.

It strikes one, and the new day begins.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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