Daily
By _Sky
Under the watch of the clock,
the noise of yesterday still repeats
the sound goes on, tic-tac, tic-tac, tic-tac
Like the beats of fingers in the wood desk
the sounds, like slow waves coming
reaching the beach, being received
on the coast by the clear sand
in a harminous blend
of what's coming and what's still here,
A natural mix of eternal changing.
Author Notes: Hello to anyone who might be reading this, I just wanted to say that this is sort of an experiment for me (I've never wrote any poems in English, and I don't know if my grammar is good enough), but anyway, I'll try to improve in the future, so thanks for reading!! \(￣︶￣\))
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