time whimpers

Time whimpers
By james a. galgano

The whimpering loneliness cornered within time's captive spin.
The grin on the clock's arthritic hands shows less than a smile as they pass like ships at night.
While the hues of the horizon change from dusk to dawn's quivering light
There seclusion scurries for cover behind any orifice or through every porthole's comfort within
Limbo's lair where guilt and death gather the strength to carry onward into daily twilight.
Muddied waters stream like impossible dreams down memory's inescapable lane less than contrite
Begging no pardons for mistakes made while caught within the spiral of whatever might,
Be considered prophetic without even one clue which propels one's hopes and dreams one day true.
Within such perplexing quandary left to own devices to secure an escape and life renew
The whining struggles our futile life has become one recurring lie without even a clue.
How to escape such a dilemma of our own making we are unable to undo.
Such is the place we find ourselves where many are chosen from the finite few.