In a pensive mood she stands, staring at
the blank walls
There is so much on her mind,
Do not disturb her,
As she entangles herself in intricate thoughts
As the clock strikes twelve,
She watches the second hand move,
From one melancholic day into another
Will this day be any different? She
wonders
Will the hollow fill itself as the
minutes pass?
Or will she be stuck even today,
Without knowing the difference in the
present and the past
~Sam
