“Minutes Left” by Michal Mitchell
I count the minutes of my sad little life,
What words taunt my mind,
Carelessly consume my thoughts, my face, my emotions, ruin innocent pleasures, a child could tell,
Do tell me what you look upon,
So quick to judge I think not,
For you have no image to place me besides your scary nightmare, a mask, your boogeyman.
I don’t think I’d wear this mask, if I could take it off,
Do you think me a fool for your amusing? A clown who sheds but coloured tears?
Paint on my face, no, please,
Wipe it off.
My tears have no affect,
Besides to make me more a fool,
One who which might ridicule.
So take your time and enjoy the show.
Of what minutes I have left.
“10 Minute Poetry” is my own weekly poet’s game; one in which I write an original piece of poetry, with nothing but a given title, in ten minutes.