Four Corners
Four corners, neatly cleaned
Bone white clock
Counts away
Seconds of life
Another year
Passes away
Quietly, carefully
Wrapped
In promises of change
How many times must I look back
Counting My Mistakes
How many empty lives like mine
Begin and end each day
Slowly moving, shifting shapes
Dead memories, wandering
Lost
Stealing my sleep
Writer/s: Daylight Dies
