900 seconds
just an ordinary day.
something i wrote for my english homework.
I hear the tap running,
it’s pattern as defined as my thoughts.
I can’t switch off the tap,
but it slows down eventually.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The external noise may have stopped,
but each thought in my head is a musician,
each playing their own melody,
each experimenting with new sounds.
But their creativity has its limits,
and when the buzz dies down,
I soak up the noise of the silence.
Nothingness, emptiness,
until the musicians recover from their drought.
something i wrote for my english homework.
I hear the tap running,
it’s pattern as defined as my thoughts.
I can’t switch off the tap,
but it slows down eventually.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The external noise may have stopped,
but each thought in my head is a musician,
each playing their own melody,
each experimenting with new sounds.
But their creativity has its limits,
and when the buzz dies down,
I soak up the noise of the silence.
Nothingness, emptiness,
until the musicians recover from their drought.