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The outside on the inside
Steals passion for fun
When arrows come from far and wide
Facing the new shiny sun
with dignity
There are ribbons in the fire
And lives still painfully on hold
Beneath the folds of desire
The barred windows still remain cold
indefinitely
When recognition cannot be found
Or trust and pride have no sound
Then those minds roll ‘round and round
They cannot find any common ground
respectively
So the outcasts may play together
Live trapped among the barbed wire
Unmasked souls on a sorry tether
Can never form a knowing gyre
insensitivity
For when lives are flung aside
And battle is all they know
Then worth will always hide
Awake for some endless show
expressivity
The outsider on the inside
Wears the mask of the alone
In crowds of waste and glory
They often forget about Home
eternally
Clearly you only have to nominate ‘time travel’ as the subject of a writing competition to get people thinking.
Time, for me, was at first just “the clock on the wall” at high school. When is lunch? When will this test finish? And when is home time?
Have you ever found yourself at the bottom of a well?
The decay of an atom indicates that time itself has passed, it is the origin of our concept of time.