PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There I am, Standing in a room full of clocks that have no hands. Writings on the wall, The words I cannot comprehend.
I look into a mirror and its me I see looking back, except I'm dressed for the grave. What do you make of that?

A fear washes over. A chill drops down my spin, when I finally realized this was not a dream; I've been awake the whole time.