As We Are Now

I can see each passing second.
The long black hands are pointing fingers,
hardly giving you the time of day
as they systematically make their rounds.

I can hear each passing second,
it's a slow steady beat.
Each sound resonating off the curved glass,
becoming the rhythm of my life.

I can feel each passing second
with my youth slowly slipping away.
It is fading along with the sound of the ticking hands,
pointing out how we will never be as young as we are now.

I can see each passing second.
The longcomma black hands are pointing fingers,

I can hear each passing second,
it's a slowcomma steady beat.

pointing out how we will never be as young as we are now.

I don't like this last line. I don't think it sums up the poem. I mean why is time so important to you are waiting for something. I mean you're explaining time, but why? Are you waiting? Are you wishing it would stop? You need some feeling. Although I love the whole poem just not last line. I feel like in the poem you're waiting for a never ending class to come to an end. That's just me! Good job though!

PM me or post on my wall if you have any questions!

-boo

Excellent. I enjoyed it. I don't really have any mistakes to point out. I really liked it. Keep on writing!
Dragon Rider

Hello I'm SilentRain, I haven't done a review in a while but I will do my best.

To start wil, I like your title, its what made me want to read this.

Ok, I do my reviews in colors so its easy to understand.
Red is for grammer errors
Blue is for things that I would change, not things that have to be changed
Purple are things I like
Green is for other comments

I can see each passing second.
The long, black hands are pointing fingers, << I think this would sound better is it said "The"
hardly giving you the time of day
as they systematically make their rounds.

I can hear each passing second,
it's a slow, steady beat.
Each sound resonating off the curved glass, << What do you mean by curved glass?
becoming the rhythm of my life.

I can feel each passing second
with my youth slowly slipping away.
It is fading along with the sound of the ticking hands, <<"The sound of the ticking hands" is sort of over used when it comes to this subject... Maybe think a a more original way to say this? pointing out how we will never be as young as we are now.

Well, I think this needs some work. This subject is written about so much that it is sometimes hard to make it original. I think this should be longer, maybe elaborate on why you feel this way, put more emotions into it. I think in your last sentence it can just be shortened into "Pointing out that we will never be as we are now" Its more deep, more meaningful then saying well never be as young as we are now. Maybe you should elaborate on how we as people waste our lives waiting on time to go by and then when we are older we wish for it back. With some work this can be a really great poem! As of now its not bad but its not extraordinary, with some work it can be.

Good luck and keep writing,

~Rain

I loved it! And I mean it. It's great and it's like based on reality.

and this line struck me really hard.
I can feel each passing second
with my youth slowly slipping away.
It is fading along with the sound of the ticking hands,
pointing out how we will never be as young as we are now.

We can never be really young as we are now. It made me realize one thing, that we can't really go back in the past and change it. We should make the most of it, because time passes really fast. And I mean, really really fast. It was like only few months ago when I remember passing through the streets and saw flashing lights of Christmas decorations-- a sign that the year's already near to its end. And now, I can sense the breeze of Christmas and I know it's already near. A year had already passed and it felt like a quarter.

I thought we should make the most of our lives, and it's just really great to realize how powerful Time is.