“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.