Time

It wasn’t supposed to be time yet

We knew the clock was always ticking

We moved as fast as we could

so that whatever time was left

was ours just to enjoy

And here we are

that ticking clock run out too soon

The hands that no one ever sees

found midnight long before the darkness

and made pointless all the effort

What’s left now?

We go on, I suppose

slaves of our own ticking clocks

but there’s something missing

without the sound of hers

to tell our own time by…

Leave a Reply