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Countdown (Free verse) by TearsOnRoses Our days are numbered 555.
Times running out to claim your pride.
The angels sing into the night.
When morning comes, they all take flight.
Our days are numbered 321.
Your problems come, and then you run.
Worries come and worries go
You always say, "Time goes too slow."
Our days are numbered 102.
Death will soon creep up on you.
Look to the sky and whisper your dreams,
They'll never listen if you scream.
Up the ladder:
Sins of convenience
Down the ladder:
The Thomas Brown Affair
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 7.2
Posted: July 18, 2004 7:08 AM PDT; Last modified: July 18, 2004 7:08 AM PDTWeighted score: 5.2622466 Overall Rank: 3982 Comments:
[7]
Dovina @ 24.52.157.176
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18-Jul-04/10:43 AM
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Reply
It seems the numbers are there to rhyme, unless I'm missing something. Last two lines are good.
Ever heard the song "Shatterday" from Vendetta Red? Well, that's where I got the idea to write "Countdown." And yeah, obviously the numbers are there so it will rhyme...
Listen....... Do you hear it? Never count your days. just learn to enjoy them. thanks for you vote on my poem old friends. read some more and tell me what you think. my e-mail is posted. thanks again.
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