Midnight

by youngandclueless

Published October 21, 2013

In Random Poems

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*Note: I don't know how to do stanzas on this website.. Sorry :(*

The clock signals midnight

with a groan.

But what is it really?

Perhaps it is

the darkest moment

when one cannot

remember if it is

tomorrow,

yesterday,

or now.

The clock signals dawn

with a shriek.

But what is it really?

Perhaps it is fear,

fear of the unknown,

oppressed,

or lost.

The clock signals noon

with a crackle.

But what is it really?

Perhaps it is

a glass,

half full,

half empty,

or drowned by both.

The clock signals dusk

with a sigh.

But what is it really?

Perhaps it is

a memory,

lesson

or burden.

The clock signals midnight

with a groan.

But what is it really?

Perhaps it is

tired.

Comments & reviews · 5
User avatar
PeanutPhoebe
Review
PeanutPhoebe wrote a review Review · Oct 22, 2013

PeanutPhoebe here for a review!! I really like this poem. It would have been great if you could have done stanzas, but I understand. I love the simplicity of the words. I may even try to write my own totally different poem about Midnight;) I love the personification you put into this, especially with the clock. Very interesting. my favorite part is this:

" Perhaps it is

the darkest moment

when one cannot

remember if it is

tomorrow,

yesterday,

or now."

That's what I always feel like;) anyway, Great job and keep writing!!

Thanks!! You should totally write a poem about midnight. I would definitely read it!! It's just such a great hour! :D

User avatar
santana
Comment
santana commented Comment · Oct 22, 2013

Nice poem...I can kinda relate to it because I don't know if midnight begins the next day or if it's still the same night

:) me too! I just go with whatever I want to at the moment! Thanks!!

User avatar
emjayc
Review
emjayc wrote a review Review · Oct 21, 2013

Beautiful poem! I love how you repeat the question "But what is it really?" I also really like your diction and how you give the clock human characteristics. The clock sighs and shrieks and it really creates an interesting poem. I cannot even choose my favorite line because the entire poem is great :) Please write more because I truly enjoyed reading this!

You really liked it? Well thanks! I wasn't sure if this poem was a little off or not but you have made me feel me confident about it. :)

LittleCaroleen wrote a review Review · Oct 21, 2013

I love this poem. I love the way it drags on, kind of like time does. It's very simple and very real at the same time.
I absolutely loved this part:

"Perhaps it is a glass/half empty/half full/or drowned by both"

I love thinking about what's inside of the glass and what is it drowning in? Is it simply water? Is it the sun? Is it the amount of responsibilities you would have at this time? It opens the door to so many questions and it really gets you thinking. Any piece of literature should be able to do that.

I noticed you had a problem with the stanzas. If you hold down shift and hit enter the spacing will be single instead of double.

So
Your stanzas
Can be
More easily
defined.

As for any technical errors, I didn't see any, but I always have to reread things a million times to find those. You're a good writer and I hope to see more from you soon. :)

Thank you for the review and the advice on stanzas!! this will help me so much!

User avatar
Sleeplessend
Review
Sleeplessend wrote a review Review · Oct 21, 2013

Love the simplicity in this poem. Also the complexity of the midnight hour. Such questions would arise from such a unique hour. I feel that if a philosopher were to read this he could rant about midnight for hours due to these very questions instilled in this poem. Simple, original, philosophical and the perfect length. Good job :)

thanks so much!! When I wrote this, it was midnight, and I was feeling particularly deep :)



Poetry is my cheap means of transportation. By the end of the poem the reader should be in a different place from where he started. I would like him to be slightly disoriented at the end, like I drove him outside of town at night and dropped him off in a cornfield.
— Billy Collins