Where does the time go?
I'm watching the clock. Watching its arms go around and around. Why do they speed up for me?
Is it because I'm a bad person?
Maybe I don't appreciate the past?
Who knows because after all it never lasts.
Not unlike love on a stormy night where lust becomes your will to fight.
Not unlike Prince Hamlet reciting his soliloquy to Father Time.
I live fast to die fast to.
Maybe I'm just destined to lose.
Thinking backwards to a darker night where my lips first touched the bottom of liquor.
The worries and regrets, all did fade.
Maybe the spade will save me trouble as his partnering shovels dig me deep.
I try not to reflect too often but often find myself lost amongst the rug of time.
Where I find myself far behind.
Lost in a sea of clocks and arms that seem to mock me.
"Look at the fool. Look at the boy."
Silence is the favored gift for me amongst the rattling and clanging off the bells.
Four thirty
Five
Eight and nine
The hands they spin reminding me of time.
I pray for a stop.
Just a short break.
And then silence is shattered by the grandfather clock....
